Made for Loving You
by julley
Summary: It's Riley's final year at NYU. She's as close to Maya as ever, has a crush on a mysterious photographer and is interning at one of NYC's finest magazine firms. All that's missing are her boys, who she hasn't seen since they left for college. But when a wedding draws Farkle, Lucas and Zay back, the 5 friends finally confront the reasons why they drifted apart in the first place.
1. Chapter 1

**1**

 **Summer 2020**

 **New York**

Even at the age of eighteen, Riley was not the type of girl who was willing to stay out past ten without a good reason. So it came as a surprise to her when she found herself agreeing to attend their senior graduation party – on the basis that it would be the last time she would be seeing all of her friends in one place.

The party had been specially planned and hosted by Brad, a jock whose family owned the top three floors to an apartment building. And at the present moment, every inch of it smelt like booze and sweat and activities that would not be spoken of the next day.

"Catch you later!" Maya shouted in Riley's direction as she intertwined her hand around Lucas' and dragged him off to the opposite side of the room. Just a few steps forward and the couple was swallowed whole, lost in the teeming crowd of self-proclaimed adults.

They were only ten minutes in and their group of five was already down to three.

Just then, Riley felt someone sling an arm across her shoulder. It was Zay, who had his other arm around Farkle and was now pulling the three of them into a tight huddle.

"Let's not hold back, a'ight," he said, making sure that he had split his gaze meaningfully between the two before letting them go with a light pat on the back.

Before either could respond, the boy then proceeded to swipe off two plastic cups filled with beer from a passing tray, and shoved it into their hands.

"Shall we cheers to the night?" He offered, holding his own drink up.

Farkle looked over at Riley uneasily, but upon seeing her raise her drink, proceeded to do the same.

"Cheers!" They exclaimed in unison, downing their drinks in one gulp.

After that, Riley wasn't sure if it was the throbbing bass of the music that pulsated with her heartbeat, or the spotlights that shone so brightly that she had to squint in order to see, but she found herself accepting every other drink offered to her.

She lost Farkle and Zay along the way as well, and now slightly tipsy, found herself pushing her way through the mass of bodies in the main room up the stairs to the second level, where it was less chaotic. Groups of teenagers sat in circles on the carpeted floor and sofas, either talking or playing games.

"Riley!" A voice suddenly shouted across the staircase landing. "Over here!"

It took Riley several seconds to pinpoint the exact location it came from, even with Farkle flailing his arms wildly in the air to grasp her attention.

She finally spotted him sitting amongst the circle of people closest to the bedroom doors and started clambering towards them. "There you are!" She said, "I've been looking everywhere for you."

Farkle smiled and scooted over to make room for her to sit. "Have you? I've been here all along."

Several of their good friends – Sarah, Yogi and Darby – were there as well, and they all eyed them with a mischievous glint in their eyes.

"You came just in time," Darby said, rubbing her palms together excitedly. "We were just about to send in the next pair!"

Riley frowned, trying to process what she had just said. "Sorry, send in _where_?"

"There," Sarah replied, pointing towards the white door that Riley's back had been facing. "It's Brad's bedroom. We're playing Seven Minutes in Heaven, have you heard of it?"

"Oh, that."

Although Riley had never played the game before, she knew it well enough to avoid it, especially when her other friends weren't around. But perhaps it was the couple of drinks she'd downed, or the fact that Farkle was by her side, because she felt more reckless tonight, ready to take on anything that was thrown her way.

"Are you and Farkle up for it, then?" Darby teased, eliciting laughter from around them.

Riley cocked her head to one side as she looked towards Farkle, who merely blinked back at her, clearly drunk himself. He had peeled off his black, trademark jacket due to the drowsy heat that engulfed them and laid it down on the floor beside him. Under the dim light, he appeared soft and vulnerable. The boy never did well in parties whenever he was sober, and now that he wasn't, she didn't want to abuse it – no matter how reckless she felt like.

But just as she was about to decline, Farkle tore his gaze away from her and nodded fervently, answering on behalf of the two of them.

"Of course," he said, breaking into a grin as he picked himself up and dusted his jeans.

Offering a hand to Riley, he asked, "Are you coming?"

A thousand replies rose up in her throat, but with the state that she was in, she didn't know how to piece them into coherent words. So thinking better of it, she reached out for his hand in silent consent and engaged his help in pulling her up to her feet.

"Great!" Sarah smiled at the two as she restarted the countdown timer on her phone. "You guys have seven minutes."

Farkle nodded once again and opened the door, leading the way into the room. From behind him, Riley could already see that it was illuminated only by desk lamps, one on each side of the bed.

Before stepping in after him, she sized up her friends who were still watching them expectantly.

"I know what you lot are thinking, so you better wipe those thoughts out of your heads!" She warned, "It won't happen today and it won't happen ever."

And with that, she swung the door shut with an audible _click_.

As soon as the door was closed, silence fell abruptly across the room as if all sounds had been sucked into an invisible vacuum. Only the soft vibration of music blasting from outside reminded them of the party that was continuing to rage beyond the four walls.

Farkle had, by then, seated himself comfortably at the edge of Brad's bed and looked like he was waiting for Riley to say something.

There was a slight pause before the girl spoke up.

"Why on earth did you agree to that?" She asked, crossing her arms as she leant against the desk positioned opposite the bed.

The boy shrugged. "Remember how Zay told us not to hold back? I saw the expression on your face before you took the drink just now. It was hesitant. Hesitant but hopeful. Care to explain that, Miss Riley?"

Riley felt a laugh escape her. Farkle had always been a fast talker, even under normal circumstances. But when he was drunk, he spoke at double the pace and rarely made any sense, which she found absolutely hilarious.

"Well, _Mister_ Farkle," she giggled, "As you should already know, I don't really enjoy parties like this. They're just too wild for me. But when I took that first cup and drank it, I guess I was hoping that it would feel different this time around."

Farkle stretched his limbs and let loose a lazy smile. "Well did it?" He prodded.

"Not really. It's kind of difficult when all you're thinking about is how everyone's just going to start leaving you."

Riley blinked upon processing what she'd said, surprised by her own honesty. And it seemed like her words had struck a chord in Farkle as well, for he had fallen quiet, soaking up the weight of its implications.

The brunette's eyes drifted across the room, looking everywhere but at her friend. Brad's room hardly seemed representative of the cool jock that he was in school. All the times he'd gone home, he had been returning to a little boy's treasure trove filled with glow-in-the-dark planets stuck to the ceiling and toy trains that still powered around in circles along their tracks.

"Oh look!" She exclaimed out of the blue. "It's Pluto!"

Farkle looked to where she pointed at – a tiny dot that glowed on the ceiling, trailing behind the other planets in the solar system. It was literally indistinguishable from an ordinary circle.

"Brad must've stuck them up there when he was a kid…before Pluto was removed as a planet," Riley guessed.

"No offence, but I personally think my planetarium is much nicer," Farkle retorted, sounding offended. "At least my Pluto actually _looks_ like one."

Riley's eyebrows crinkled into a frown. "You're so mean when you're drunk," she chided.

Farkle nodded approvingly, not in the least bit provoked by that comment. "I think it makes me more honest, too."

"Oh wow, how brutal that must be." Riley laughed, feigning mock disgust.

The boy remained quiet as he studied her for a good moment. It seemed like he was mapping a mental image of her face, and she could feel the intensity of his gaze as it drifted from her eyes to her small button nose and down to the dimples of her cheeks before stopping right where her lips were.

"Farkle…" Riley started, only to be cut off by him.

"God, I'm going to miss you so much," he said, rising up from the bed to take a few steps forward.

Riley tried to back up a little, but found herself hitting the edge of the table with nowhere else to run. The glazed appearance of Farkle's eyes had suddenly been replaced by an acute sense of awareness that defied all odds of his drunken state.

Reaching out to pick a stray lock of hair that had fallen across her face, the boy tucked it gently behind her right ear, causing a tingle to run up her spine when his fingers unintentionally brushed against her earlobe.

Riley gripped the edge of the table for support, pushing so hard against it that her bottom had sidled up the top and was now sitting on it, placing her at the same height as Farkle. She didn't know when or how he'd gotten so close to her, but their noses were now almost touching and their eyes so near to one another's that it was a struggle to even hold the other's gaze.

"I–"

Before Riley could protest, the boy leaned in to kiss her, bringing his hands to her waist as he pressed his body against hers.

His lips were gentle and searching, and Riley felt her breath catch on a sigh as she reciprocated, her hands grasping for the back of his neck as she slid her fingers through his smooth, chestnut hair. She didn't know it was possible, but he tasted of galaxies and stardust and the mint that he always popped into his mouth after meals.

As the kiss started to grow more urgent, all Riley could think of was how much she never wanted this to end. The insides of her stomach felt like it was being tickled by the soft flutter of butterflies' wings, and till that moment, she had never thought Farkle to be such a good kisser.

In fact, it was taboo for her to even think about it in the first place, especially since he had been dating Smackle for nearly five years now –

Riley's eyes snapped wide open. _Smackle._

The girl immediately broke the kiss and pushed Farkle away with a surprising amount of force, causing him to lose his balance and stumble backwards onto the bed. He rolled over on his side with a soft groan.

However, he didn't get up or even attempt to do so. Judging by the way his chest rose and fell at a steadying pace, it was safe to assume that he had finally collapsed from all the drinks.

Riley stood rooted to the ground for several seconds, trying to comprehend what she'd just done. All of the sluggishness she previously felt was now wiped clean away, and in its place was something much worse – guilt and disgust towards herself, creeping mercilessly up on her.

"I have to go," she found herself whispering aloud, sounding truly horrified. And inside her head, the words rang like a fire alarm:

 _What have I done? What have I done?_

Willing herself to step away from Farkle, she headed towards the door. Taking the first step was easier than she had expected, but as with all things, fleeing was always the easiest way out. She just couldn't muster the courage to face him. At least not right now.

Hauling her next foot forward, Riley tried to walk as calmly as she could to ensure that her urgency could not be detected by her friends outside.

"Where's Farkle?" Yogi asked as soon as she stepped out of the room and shut the door behind her. He had on his usual, cheeky grin, but this time it seemed ominous, like he knew exactly what occurred inside.

Riley blinked, and the next moment, his grin meant nothing at all. She was scaring herself into paranoia.

"He fell asleep," she finally answered, side-stepping the group as she did so. "Please don't wake him up. Let him sleep."

Sarah raised an eyebrow at her retreating figure. "Where are you going?" She asked.

"Home," Riley said, "I'm going home."

As soon as she was out of their line of sight, the girl burst into a full sprint, unable to contain it any longer. The crowd on the first floor had not thinned one bit, but that didn't stop her from ploughing through it, swivelling her head from left to right in search for Maya.

Unfortunately, Maya Hart was nowhere to be found, leaving Riley with no choice but to flee out of the house by herself. Ditching the lift and awkward small talk, she scrambled down nine flights of stairs and burst through the exit into the sweltering heat of the night, panting furiously.

There had been a perfectly good reason why Riley was not the type of girl who was willing to stay out past ten, and this was probably it.

* * *

 _A/N: Hi guys! I had to retype the author's note again because when I clicked to save the previous one the internet suddenly disconnected so I lost everything I'd written :( Just to keep this short and sweet, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! The events of this night have an important role in setting the story into motion, so I'm excited to see how it unravels for all of you. And just a little sneak peek, the next chapter will be set four years into the future, where our dear characters are finally in their twenties. Hope you're as excited for it as I am, and do let me know what you think about the story so far by leaving a review! Thanks for reading :) Till the next chapter!_


	2. Chapter 2

**2**

 **Summer 2023**

 **New York**

"Excuse me, important delivery coming through!"

The crowded street reluctantly parted ways for Riley as she weaved her way through it, a hot latte in her right hand and a box of freshly-baked cupcakes in the other.

In a separate scenario, the reason for her hastiness would probably have been due to a nightmare boss' impatience, but instead, the latte was her own to drink and the cupcakes, for a dear colleague's birthday.

It was only after embarking on her three-month summer internship at _The New Collective_ that Riley realized controlling supervisors were an enduring stereotype founded upon countless of Hollywood rom-coms. Either that, or she was just one of the lucky few to have as kind and wise a CEO as Leigh Paxton.

 _The New Collective_ was a lifestyle magazine that had been founded in 2016, climbing the ranks of the industry till it became one of the very best. But despite being presented the opportunity to move into a larger space at the heart of the city, Leigh Paxton had refused, not wanting to leave the place that started it all for them.

So there Riley was, standing on the porch of a white, three-storey building with black window grilles and a rooftop garden that was visible from below. The other buildings around it were nearly exact replicas, each one housing a different creative start-up.

Transferring her goods onto her left arm, the girl fished out the company card from her bag and tapped it against the card detector. There was a soft _beep_ before the glass door whooshed open, inviting a fresh blast of cold air onto her skin.

"You're back!" Anastasia exclaimed, rushing towards the girl. "Come on, we've already lured Mason into the room!"

"Alright, alright, I'm coming," Riley laughed as she allowed herself to get whisked away to the second floor pantry.

When she started her internship just a month ago, she had no idea what she was getting herself into. Of course she hoped that the experience wouldn't kill her hopes and ambitions of working in the industry, but she had heard countless of stories about horrible bosses and cunning co-workers that treated you nicely and stabbed you in the back once you let your guard down.

Thankfully, her time here had been a dream thus far. Barely a month into the job and she was already being treated like family. In fact, with laughter and smiles – it was the only way Riley knew how to get things done.

* * *

Later that evening, Riley was back at her desk, silently appraising a bunch of photographs that were laid out neatly across the table in front of her.

While the first floor housed the reception counter and meeting rooms for visitors, the second and third was where the work got done. In the name of creating a communal workspace, everyone's polished white desks were arranged in such a way that they faced one another's. Whether you looked left or right, front or back, there would always be somebody within line of sight.

In place of tiny windows, the main workspace was also granted with an abundance of natural sunlight due to the glass panels that stretched from floor to ceiling. At the moment, the setting sun casted low shadows across the wooden tiles and painted dark stripes over the photographs.

A small part of Riley's duties as an intern was to sieve out photos for one of the magazine's segments. It showcased works of photography from people all over America based on different themes each month, this time being 'Geometry'.

Most of the photos that she had received consisted of symmetrical buildings or tiles washed over with black and white filters. There wasn't anything bad about that, but their similarities just made it all the more hard for her to pick the ten to publish.

As her eyes glossed over the photographs, she noticed one that stood out from the rest, its bright colours popping up against the sea of monochrome. It was a picture of a white cat slinking down a rusty staircase with grilled metronome-shaped balusters. As light shone from above, each step casted diagonal, elongated shadows along the blue wall – a pretty play on light and contrast.

In fact, its distinctive style reminded Riley of a certain someone, and just to confirm her suspicions, she picked the photograph up and flipped it over, where on the underside it read: _Forest Meyers, 2023._

The edges of her lips tugged up into a smile. She had guessed right. It was another masterpiece by him, the photographer who had been submitting photos to the company each month since its inception.

"So what do you think about this month's photographs?" A voice suddenly spoke up from behind her.

Startled, Riley quickly slid Forest's picture away from her and turned around with a nervous chuckle.

It was Leigh Paxton, peering amusedly over her shoulder. She nudged her head towards the photograph that Riley had just attempted to conceal. "You seem to be smiling an awful lot at that picture," she observed.

Riley stood up from her chair in a show of respect for the CEO and founder of _The New Collective_. She was doing her usual rounds around the office, checking in on her employees before knocking off for the day. Her tall, statuesque figure had always given Riley the impression of grace and power, but it was in the venerating way that she held herself and spoke to the people around her that gave the woman her commanding presence.

"I really like his photographs," Riley explained, trying to frame her words in a way that would make her sound less creepy. "They're one of the things I look forward to whenever I get my hands on the latest issue. They've helped me see things in a new perspective, and not just in the literal sense of how I now take notice of the way the morning dew trembles on a leaf, but also how joy can be found in all places."

Leigh Paxton seemed to consider this for a moment, her eyes shifting from the photograph to the girl, and back again.

"You're right," she finally said. "I suppose that's why his photos are always amongst the ten we choose to publish."

The woman proceeded to step away from the table, seemingly about to take her leave. But then she took a step back and placed a hand on Riley's shoulder, a playful smile spreading across her face.

"On hindsight, perhaps you'd like to drop him a little thank you note on behalf of everyone in the company," she suggested.

"Really?!" Riley burst out in excitement before realizing how unprofessional she sounded. She cleared her throat. "I mean, _really?_ "

"Yes, but do use the company email, please," Leigh laughed at the girl's inability to conceal her enthusiasm. "I'll see you tomorrow, Riley."

"Thank you, Ms Paxton!" She said, hardly believing what she'd just heard. "You'll definitely see me tomorrow!"

From across the table, Anastasia – who had been eavesdropping on their conversation – doubled up with laughter.

* * *

"'You'll definitely see me tomorrow'. Ha, you actually said that?"

After fourteen years of friendship, Maya was no longer surprised by her best friend's penchant for awkward responses.

"Embarrassing, I know!" Riley plopped down onto the sofa beside her with a loud sigh.

"Well at least it wasn't your first day at work. They're probably all used to it by now," Maya joked in a half-hearted attempt to comfort her friend. She shoved an open packet of Cheetos in her face. "Want some?"

Riley shook her head. "No thanks, if I eat any more of those I doubt I'll be able to fit into my dress on the day of the wedding."

Unperturbed, Maya withdrew the packet and proceeded to grab a handful of its cheesy contents, stuffing them into her mouth with a loud crunch like she was trying to prove a point. "You say it as if _you're_ the one who's getting married."

"Well, we're twenty-one! Our metabolism's no longer as efficient in burning fats as it used to be," Riley gave her stomach a firm pat. "Besides, what better place to meet your future husband than at someone else's wedding? I still have to keep up appearances for potential suitors, you know."

Maya smirked. "And I wouldn't be your best friend if I didn't know what a terrible liar you are." She pinched a Cheeto between her two fingers and threw it in Riley's direction. "Catch!"

The snack sailed in a perfect arc across the air before landing straight into Riley's awaiting mouth. "Okay, you got me," she said, licking her lips for any stray crumbs. "I wasn't kidding about the potential suitor part, though."

Maya smiled cheekily. "Why are you so afraid to say his name out loud? Here, let me say it for you: Forest Meyers – potential suitor."

"What nonsense!" Riley immediately protested despite the faint blush that crept across her cheeks.

"You could always drop him an email and invite him to the wedding as your plus one," Maya suggested. "Especially since you've been granted permission by Paxton to contact him."

"Goodness, no. I'm not _that_ desperate for a date to bring to the wedding."

Maya settled back against the couch and propped her feet up on the coffee table. "What's it about him, anyway? Apart from his name, you don't know anything else about him. Not his age, where he lives or even how he looks like."

"Knowing all of those things about a boy hasn't exactly helped me in my past relationships, have they?" Riley replied, still feeling somewhat bitter from her recent break-up with a boy she had been dating the past two years.

"No," Maya answered softly. "They haven't. I'm sorry for asking."

After Lucas, both of Riley's boyfriends in high school and college had proven themselves to be less than satisfactory. And yet, she still found herself holding onto the hope that her prince would come riding into her life on a white horse one day, though by now she'd at least figured that he wouldn't exactly be accompanied by fireworks and fanfare.

The girl sat up a little straighter and took Maya's hands in hers. "Don't be," she told her. "Life's currently great as it is."

Maya let out a nervous laugh, suddenly looking very serious. Biting down on her bottom lip, she said, "It won't be once you hear what I have to say."

Riley scrambled backwards away from her. "Oh my god, don't tell me – there's no more milk left in the fridge."

"I wish," she said gloomily. "My mum's gotten back all of the save-the-dates that she sent out."

"And?"

"Farkle and Lucas are attending the wedding."

* * *

 _A/N: Hello again! Thanks for all the responses so far, guys! I really appreciate it :) This chapter is my little introduction into Riley's life, three years into the future and three years after they graduated from high school. And i_ _n response to **beatzlc's** question, yes, I've already chosen the pairings (I only realised after I saw the review that I forgot to include the characters in the story description. I have since updated it haha!). That being said, as much as I've already planned the eventual outcome of these characters, most of the show's couples will be making an appearance throughout the story due to its past-present format. After all, this story is first and foremost, about the relationships between them and how they have changed and grown during the period between graduation and college. Also, reviews are most welcome, so let me know what you think! See you during the next update :) _


	3. Chapter 3

**3**

 **Summer 2023**

 **Massachusetts**

It was dark by the time Farkle stepped out of school.

Standing under the solitary beam of a lamppost, he realized that there was no one in sight. The main path stretched before him from left to right, completely deserted except for the streetlamps that lined it.

The only indications that pointed to other signs of life in the area were the illuminated windows on the top floor of the building and the silhouettes that shifted behind them from time to time – no doubt the animated hand gestures of his course mates and professors who stayed on to bounce ideas off of each other.

He'd spent the entire day together with them, working on a research programme that he was currently involved in. It pertained to the theory of artificial intelligence, something which Farkle found extremely fascinating. It was like studying himself, the 'robot' with high IQ, big ambitions and grand gestures – a subject of awe and wonder to even his closest friends.

While it seemed like that side of him had tamed over the past three years, the boy had a feeling that it was only because everyone around him was of the same kind, making him appear _normal_ for once. Everyone here was a Farkle, but smarter, handsomer, and more flamboyant.

He didn't really care about that, at least not anymore. In fact, he was largely desensitized by now, merely eager for the chance to get away from everything. It was pretty ironic, really, considering how he was supposedly just like them.

However, robot or not, it was a Friday night, which meant that everyone who had yet to jet off to exotic locations for the summer were currently having a good time with their friends downtown. In under an hour, Farkle was going to fall under the latter.

He inhaled the liberating summer air and made his way towards the bicycle rack where his bicycle was parked. He hadn't bothered to chain it since there was hardly anyone around that morning, added on to the fact that no one in their right mind would tarnish their reputation just to steal one.

Wheeling the bicycle out and mounting it, he glanced down at his wristwatch, predicting that without any mishaps, he would take at most thirty minutes to get to his destination.

He adjusted his messenger bag such that it slung across his back and proceeded to push off from the ground, flying down the path that led away from the university. From behind him, the red-bricked campus grew smaller and more obscure, along with the white stone slab that stood in front of it, reading:

 _Harvard_

 _School of Engineering and Applied Sciences_

* * *

With Boston just a short ride away from Cambridge, Farkle often found himself making trips down to the city every once or twice a week to meet Lucas for a drink. He had the option of driving a car, but much preferred cycling down the streets of Broadway and crossing Longfellow Bridge with the air whipping against his skin and the wind sweeping across his hair. Riding alongside cars and trucks and buses had a rather freeing effect on him. It made him feel more alive and centred in the moment, helping him to forget the adult that everyone was expecting him to become, even if just for those few minutes.

Upon reaching Boston, a burning sensation began to form in Farkle's legs, as it usually did when he'd been pedalling too hard and too fast. He slowed down a little, appreciating the hustle and bustle of the city at this time of night.

The place that he was heading towards – Emmet's Irish Pub and Restaurant – could be spotted from afar with its green, vintage signage sticking out from the main signboard. Just below it were the words: _Emmet,_ _Purveyors of Fine Wine, Food & Spirits._ It was a typical haunt for good and affordable drinks amongst students like him.

Farkle stopped the bicycle and hopped off, wheeling it the remainder of the way before chaining it to another one of the lampposts by the side of the road. A queue for seats had formed just outside the pub, and Farkle ran a conscious hand through his hair to smoothen it down before squeezing his way through it. The people that he passed by threw curious glances his way, no doubt wondering why on earth he looked so familiar.

"Mr. Minkus," a waitress greeted him the second he stepped foot inside. "Mr. Friar's waiting for you at your usual table."

Farkle thanked her and zeroed in on the two-person table at the side of the restaurant, breaking into a smirk at the sight of Lucas Friar entertaining himself with a basket of buffalo chicken dips. The young man had not changed much in appearance since high school apart from gaining more muscles and losing his previously chubbier cheeks in place of an angular face. Otherwise, he was as good-looking as ever, often grabbing the attention of girls wherever he went.

Hearing the footsteps of Farkle's boat shoes approaching the table, Lucas looked up from his smartphone and smiled.

"You're late," he pointed out.

Farkle unslung his bag over his navy polo tee and slid into the chair opposite him. "Sorry, I got held back at school. We were busy discussing the creation of artificial intelligence that can feel emotions."

"Mmm…sounds like a premise for the next hit movie," Lucas chuckled. "Did you guys manage to reach a conclusion?"

The boy shook his head. "They were still debating over it when I left. Not a surprise, really. It seems so far-fetched for A.I. to have such an ability when it's difficult even for us."

The same waitress stopped by the table to set down their drinks – a Midleton whiskey for Farkle and a Budweiser for Lucas.

"You shouldn't over-generalize," Lucas said, taking a gulp of his beer. "There's a difference between detaching your emotions from situations, and being completely unfeeling."

"Are you saying I'm devoid of emotions?" Farkle feigned offence.

"I'd be lying if I said you aren't."

Farkle rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Well, maybe that's why avoiding women helps me feel so much more human."

Lucas set his beer down with a hearty laugh. "I'm certainly glad you didn't lose that sense of humour of yours," he said just as something caught his eye.

Nudging his head to the side, he whispered, "Speaking of women, looks like we have a lady approaching us to your right. Could you do me a favour and just pretend to be a _little bit_ interested?"

Farkle smirked. "I'll pretend to be disinterested so she won't have a choice but to settle for you."

"ASS," Lucas shot back, breaking out into a grin.

After years of practice, the two worked like a well-oiled machine, comfortable in the respective roles they played when picking up a girl. The plan usually went like this – a girl would come by, egged on by her friends, and would be slightly disappointed by the lack of interest Farkle expressed. This would then give Lucas the opportunity to swoop in and charm her with his looks and personality. Considering Farkle's impassivity for one-night stands, it was a win-win situation for the both of them.

When they were younger, Lucas had always been the looker out of the two, capturing the eyes and hearts of girls as seen by the likes of Missy Bradford, Riley Matthews and even Maya Penelope Hart. However, blessed by puberty and an established reputation, Farkle surged ahead of him in the later years of high school and university, leaving girls to swoon over his charisma and the way he carried himself – equal parts intimidating and magnetising.

While Lucas stuck to flannel shirts, jeans and boots, Farkle was finally dressed the part of a CEO's son, with chinos, smart jackets pulled over blouses and penny loafers to boot. It was such that girls began to view him more favourably over his best friend, the one who was presently studying veterinary medicine at Tufts University and often smelled like the animal shelters he volunteered at during his free time.

Reaching out for Lucas' shirt sleeve, Farkle brushed away a clump of dog fur that had been sticking to it just as the blonde girl arrived at their table with a flirtish smile.

"Hey," she greeted, her voice a smooth, velvet ribbon that caressed them both. "My friends and I couldn't help but notice the two of you from afar."

Without need for further cues, Farkle smiled and took her hand in his, giving it a nice, firm shake. "I'm Farkle," he introduced, "and my friend here is Lucas. Pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"It's nice meeting you too," the girl returned the smile coolly. From the way her gaze kept drifting away from Farkle's, it was pretty clear that her interest wasn't in him. "My name's Mia," she continued, her eyes still focused on Lucas. "We were wondering if you'd like to join us for a couple of drinks later?"

Lucas' fervent expression suddenly took a stumble at the mention of her name. "Sorry," he said, "Maya as in M-A-Y-A, Maya?"

Bemused by his question, the girl shook her head. "Mine's spelled M-I-A, silly. Where'd you get that idea from?"

"Oh, it's nothing," Lucas quickly responded, waving it away. "It was just a guess."

Mia bent over the table, her V-neck blouse hanging low enough to show-off her ample cleavage. "You're really cute, you know that?"

Lucas shrugged. "I've been told," he answered politely.

She laid a slender hand on his shoulder and squeezed it gently. "Well, I hope to see you later then, cowboy," she winked. "Drinks' on me."

Nodding towards Farkle, Mia then swivelled around and sauntered back to her table, where her friends squealed excitedly and threw glances their way. The sound of glass against glass could be heard, leading Farkle to guess that they were probably congratulating the girl for what they'd deemed a successful attempt at scoring a hook-up.

In fact, they would have been right, if not for the fact that the girl's name had left Lucas completely stumped.

"So...are you bringing her home tonight?" Farkle asked, nodding in her direction.

Lucas rubbed the back of his neck with a look of reluctance on his face. "Not today," he said. "My roommate's down sick. I should let him rest."

Farkle followed his gaze to the girl and watched as her golden curls bounced along her back while she laughed at someone's joke. He didn't have to ask again to understand the true reason behind Lucas' refusal to hook up with her – it was because she reminded him too much of Maya Hart, the girl who broke his heart all those years ago.

"Want another drink?" Farkle asked in a bid to change the subject.

"Make it three," Lucas corrected, a heaviness in his voice that had previously been absent. "I'm getting drunk tonight."

Farkle studied his friend for a moment before nodding. "Three it is, then."

He mentally ticked off his duties for the remainder of the night, which was to kindly turn Mia down with the excuse that Lucas was much too drunk to do anything, and then ensure that he got home safely to the apartment he shared with his roommate.

Farkle could hardly believe that the girls still had an influence over their lives despite having been gone for three whole years. Their untimely departure remained an enigma to him, something which he had no explanation for despite fretting over it for the longest time. And while they'd been successfully avoiding each other, it was inevitable that fate should hurtle them back into each other's paths, under the guise of Katy Hart and Shawn Hunter's wedding.

Taking another sip of whiskey, the young man came to the conclusion that there shouldn't be any surprise in the girls' staying presence. They had, after all, meant the world to him back then.

As if reading his thoughts, Lucas suddenly spoke up from opposite him. "What do you think we should say to them when we meet?" He asked quietly.

Farkle took a short while to consider this. "Hello?" He finally suggested. "Sorry? For once I have no clue."

A creased appeared between Lucas' eyebrows as he opened a new bottle of beer and slid it across the table.

"You know what, Farkle? Screw this. It's Friday. I'm not about to let this end on a sour note. Cheers?" He prodded, lifting his glass.

"Cheers," Farkle replied, knocking their drinks together with an echoing clink.

Good thing for them, the next day was a weekend.

* * *

 _A/N: Hi there! I hope you all enjoyed this little chapter. It's meant to be a short introduction to Farkle and Lucas' lives after the three-year time jump, so not much is happening._ Yet. _But once again, thanks so much for the support so far. It makes me really, really happy :') Continue letting me know what you think, I enjoy reading your reviews c: Till the next update!_


	4. Chapter 4

**4**

 **Summer 2023**

 **New York**

After Maya had retired to bed for the night, Riley found herself unable to sleep, kept awake by the thought of meeting Lucas and Farkle again. She could hardly believe that she hadn't seen Katy Hart's invitation to the two boys coming.

Perhaps it was wishful thinking, but Riley almost believed for the shortest second, that she could truly evade them for the rest of her life. Unfortunately, the fact was that they had a friendship so intricately and complicatedly spun that there was no easy way of getting out of it. To put it bluntly – Maya-style – she had "to grow some balls and face it".

So there she was in front of her laptop, her fingers hovering above the keyboard as she fought the urge to curl under her blankets and forget it all until the next day. It shouldn't be this difficult. After all, it wasn't her first time looking up Farkle's name on the internet. Though of course, not only were those occasional searches borne out of mere curiousity, but there certainly wasn't the expectation of seeing him in the near future eating at the back of her mind.

Although time and distance had made it less painful for her to recount the past, just thinking about the boys like they were still a part of her life felt strange due to its conflicting sense of foreignness and familiarity. Foreign because she hadn't seen or reached out to them in the past three years, and familiar because they had been her best friends, irregardless of the fact that they no longer spoke to each other.

"C'mon," Riley egged herself on. "You can do this."

She planted her fingers onto the keyboard and typed _Farkle Minkus_ into the search engine, a soft _tuk_ filling the air with every letter that she pressed. Upon hitting enter, hundreds of results were generated in less than a second:

 _The Business World's 25 Most Eligible Bachelors_

 _A Chat with Stuart Minkus' Prodigy_

 _Farkle Minkus – Future Heir to Minkus International?_

Reading the headlines of articles was as far as Riley usually went, which was just enough to scratch the surface of what Farkle had been up to, but certainly not enough to go into any specifics. However, if she was to be able to face him during the wedding, she had to go further this time around.

Clicking and scanning through the various news sites, she learnt that Farkle recently flew with his father to attend a social event in Dubai. She also found out that because of his place of study in Harvard, the university was currently receiving ample amounts of donation from Minkus International to help fund their research programmes, one of which the boy was also involved in.

Riley stumbled on a photograph of Farkle that was attached to one of the magazine articles as well. It wasn't just any random paparazzi picture, but one from a specially-arranged photoshoot. He was dressed smartly in a french navy blue suit and a matching tie that was just a shade lighter, while his brown dress shoes shone, well-polished, under the light. It was a full-body shot, which saw him leaning against the side of a silver Mercedes-Benz – one hand tucked into the pocket of his pants and the other held up to his forehead in a show of shielding his eyes from the sun. His face was turned to the left, revealing his side profile.

With the picture dating back just a few months ago, this was probably the Farkle that Riley would be meeting next week – handsome, well-groomed, _important._ And with him looking away from the camera, it seemed as if he was avoiding Riley's gaze itself, causing a twinge of guilt that she thought she'd successfully suppressed, to arise again in the pit of her stomach.

If a photograph could do this to her, she was pretty sure that she would implode when she finally met him at the wedding.

The girl eventually gravitated over to her Facebook account, the only social media platform that she still followed Farkle on. It hadn't been touched in months, oweing to her hectic finals at NYU and her present internship.

She visited Farkle's profile page and saw that he hadn't updated much either, apart from a few sparodic pictures that had been taken together with his friends from university. There was a white bar near the top of the page that read 'Message', and she clicked on it, unsure of what she was trying to get out of this.

All she knew was that it was past 2am and that it was usually during the wee hours of the morning that she would sometimes become nostalgic, melancholic and downright bitter, tonight being no exception.

As the enlightening and nonsensical conversations she used to share with Farkle flooded back into her memories, a sudden _bing!_ caused her to refocus her attention back onto the screen.

Riley's eyes widened in horror upon realizing what had happened "Shit! Shit shit shit shit shit," she cursed, scrambling for the laptop.

Opening the chat had unintentionally caused the string of messages that had failed to be delivered years ago because of poor connectivity, to automatically send out again. And to her unfortunate demise, this time it was successful.

 **Farkly!**

 **Come back soon.**

 **I miss you.**

 **And don't forget to return with some awesome Japanese candy!**

Feeling her cheeks redden with embarassment and shock, Riley frantically searched for any functions that would allow her to recall the messages, but to no avail. She silently admonished herself for her clumsiness, shaking her head as she grimaced. The only thing left to do was to pray and hope that Farkle never logged into his account ever again, though the odds were terrifyingly slim.

Years without contacting him even once, and now her first word to him was about to be _'Farkly'_? Riley wasn't sure if she should laugh or cry, but considering the jumble of emotions that was currently tossing inside of her, it should probably be both.

Chewing on her bottom lip, she racked her brain for other solutions, her eyes constantly drifting back to the chat box that stood open, taunting her. The messages were dated all the way back to their Junior year in high school when Farkle had left for Japan over the summer and Riley decided to mercilessly spam him over Facebook. Evidently, some of her messages had not gotten through.

The longer Riley thought about it, the more she came to the conclusion that it was less the messages but rather their contents that troubled her. The phrase 'I miss you' stood out like a sharp thorn, threatening to dismantle the distance that she had painstakingly created between Farkle and herself.

Just as she was about to resign to her fate and exit the chat, a green circle suddenly appeared beside Farkle's name, indicating that he was online. The girl froze, watching with bated breath as she waited for something to happen.

A few seconds later, a message popped up:

 **Riley?**

Another.

 **Are you there?**

Riley squeezed her eyes shut, willing for it all to go away. She wasn't ready for this. She would never be ready for this. What made her think that looking through a couple of recent articles could miraculously make her feel more prepared to meet him?

She knew that he could see that she was online and that she had read his messages. And yet, she couldn't bring herself to make a move, be it responding to him or closing the tab for good. All that she could process was her own heartbeat, pulsating furiously against her chest.

After a moment, a third message finally appeared:

 **See you on Sunday**

And with that, the green dot hovered for another second or two before disappearing.

It was only then that Riley relaxed, not having realized that she had been holding her breath the entire time. Just thinking about what happened pained her greatly. Farkle probably thought that she was playing him, and if he hadn't hated her then, he certainly did now.

After years of separation, she had made herself believe that she was indifferent to his feelings, and that she no longer cared about him. However, the throbbing ache right where her heart was spoke otherwise.

Over the last couple of months, Riley often found herself wondering if she'd done the right thing by distancing herself from Farkle. She always thought that she'd been doing him a favour by steering clear of him, sacrificing her friendship for the sake of his and Smackle's relationship. Now, both ceased to exist.

Riley switched her laptop off and pushed it to a corner of the table, not wanting to look at it any longer. Then out of nowhere, she found a laugh bubbling up her throat at the ridiculousness of her situation. It reminded her of an episode from one of her favourite sitcoms, where the main character kept making bad choices whenever it was past 2am.

"Kids," he had said, "When it's after 2am just go to sleep, because the decisions you make after 2am are the wrong decisions."

"God, how accurate that is," Riley muttered under her breath as she dragged her feet to bed. Although her heart felt heavy, her eyelids did too, and she found herself struggling to keep them open even as she pulled the blanket over her body.

The last thing that came to mind before she drifted to sleep was one that rang loud and true –

She missed Farkle, no matter how much she tried to deny it. She really, truly did.

* * *

 _A/N: Hi everyone! Hope you all enjoyed this chapter :) Major plus points to the person who can guess which sitcom I'm referring to at the end ;) That aside, thanks so much for all the favs, follows and reviews so far. They really do make my day c: In the next chapter, we'll be going back to the past to find out what happened the day after the party. Do look forward to it! Till then, I wish you all a pleasant week ahead!_


	5. Chapter 5

**5**

 **Summer 2020**

 **New York**

Riley woke up with a splitting headache the morning after the party, one so terrible that she was unable to process anything for a good five minutes apart from the pain that surged through her skull. She tried once to prop herself up, but her arm gave way, causing her to collapse back onto the bed with a tiny groan.

Squinting against the harsh sunlight that filtered through the open curtains, the girl fumbled for her phone, which was still vibrating on her bedside table with its shrill alarm blasting through the air.

"Too loud," She muttered, a quick swipe of the lock screen immediately silencing it.

She continued to lie in bed for a moment, waiting for the veil of confusion that was clouding her thoughts to lift. Realising that she was still dressed in her favourite red party dress, she began to wonder why she hadn't taken it off the night before.

Just then, there was a gentle knock on the door. It opened slowly to reveal Topanga Matthews, who was balancing a glass of water and some ibuprofen on a tray.

"Finally up, sweetie?" She asked, carrying the tray over and laying it down beside Riley.

The girl nodded and sat up against the dashboard, grateful for a drink to quench her hoarse throat with.

Topanga watched amusedly as her daughter downed it in several gulps. "I would have made you breakfast," she said, "but I'm afraid there's no time. Your friends are already on their way to the airport."

Riley nearly choked on her water. "A-Airport?!" She sputtered.

"Yes, dear," Topanga replied, eyebrows raised in surprise. "Farkle and Lucas are leaving for Masachussetts this afternoon. Are you really _that_ hungover?"

All at once, memories from the night before flooded back to her – from how she'd hailed a cab back to the apartment after leaving the party, to the kiss that she shared with Farkle. Her fingers unwittingly reached for her lips as the moment replayed itself in her mind, but she caught herself and immediately drew her hand back to her side, balling it up into a fist.

She couldn't believe what she'd done. Even though Farkle had been the one to initiate the kiss, she was equally guilty of reciprocating – perhaps even more so, for she was conscious when she did it. The very thought of kissing a taken man disgusted her, not to mention the fact that she'd basically come between two of her friends – one which she had grown up with, and another whom she had grown to respect.

"I'm not going," Riley found herself saying.

Smackle was going to be there and she was precisely the last person Riley wanted to see. She didn't want her to spot the guilt and shame reflecting so clearly in her eyes.

Topanga frowned as she placed a hand on the girl's forehead. "What's wrong? Is everything alright, Riley?" She asked, sitting herself down on the bed beside her.

Riley looked down at her hands before meeting her mother's enquiring eyes. They were filled with genuine concern, and for a moment there, she almost considered revealing what had happened. But she fought against it. There was no point. One could not rewind the past, and this would be just one of the many things that she would have to shove down her bag of secrets.

"Yeah," the girl finally replied, brushing her dishevelled hair back. "Everything's fine. I just…I just look and _feel_ like a mess."

The worry in her mother's eyes dissipated at once. She patted Riley's head affectionately and stood up, making her way towards the door. "Well then, go get yourself washed up and dressed, silly. I'll pull the car up around in fifteen minutes."

Just as she was about to step out of the room, Riley called out to her.

"Mum?" She said.

"Yes, honey?"

"I think I'm done with parties."

Topanga shook her head and smiled. "Don't make promises you can't keep."

* * *

It was nearly an hour later when Riley finally arrived at the departure terminal of the airport, her phone vibrating continuously from the slew of texts Maya was sending, demanding to know why she was late and what time she would be reaching.

"See you later," the girl said to her mother, waving goodbye through the open window of the car.

Watching as the vehicle drove away, Riley retied her ponytail and gave Maya a call. The dial tone barely rang twice before it was picked up.

"I'm here," she said. "Where are you guys?"

"We're down at the departure hall," Maya replied amidst the loud chatter in the background. "The boys are refusing to leave without you, so you better speed up, Miss VIP."

"Okay, I'll be there in five."

Riley hung up and started brisk-walking in the direction of the departure terminal, navigating her way through the crowd of people with their suitcases and belongings. Her palms were sweating from her anxiousness to meet Farkle, and she couldn't help but wonder if she was not alone in the memory.

She wasn't sure what remembering the kiss would entail. If Farkle, too, had recalled kissing her, would it mean that they were cheating? Unable to stand the thought, the girl pushed it to the back of her mind for the time being.

 _Act normally,_ Riley reminded herself for the umpteenth time.

She was finally able to spot her friends from afar – five figures standing outside the departure hall, waiting for her to arrive. She hastened her pace and reached them soon enough, a sheepish smile gracing her face.

Despite being in the middle of a conversation with Smackle, Farkle was the first to notice Riley. He met her gaze over Smackle's shoulder and smiled brightly as he stepped aside to greet her.

"Riles!" He exclaimed, "You made it!"

"Sorry for being late," the girl apologized, unable to hold his gaze for longer than a second. "I overslept."

Maya was the first to respond, grinning as she folded her arms across her chest. "Had a rough night, huh?"

Having left the party without saying goodbye to Maya, she probably hadn't realized that she was indeed right about Riley having a rough night, just not in the way she'd expected it.

It was only then that Riley managed to take a good look at her best friend's clothing. Her jeans and shoes were recycled from yesterday, the only difference being her top, which was a flannel shirt that obviously belonged to Lucas. The brunette wouldn't be surprised if she was told that the couple had come to the airport together.

"Mm," Riley decidedly agreed. "Though certainly not as rough as yours, I see."

Zay threw his head back in laughter. "That's right, Riley," he said. "No one could be happier about it than me."

"Please, Zay," Lucas warned under his breath, though the ends of his lips continued tugging up into a smile. Clearly he wasn't as comfortable talking about it as his Texan friend was.

"Alright, should we take a picture before we leave, then?" Farkle quickly suggested.

Smackle nodded, releasing her grip on his hand as she fished her phone out from her pocket. "I'll find someone to help us take it," she offered. "And it's nice seeing you again, Riley."

The brunette felt her body tense up as the girl brushed past her to approach a stranger standing nearby. She felt bad for the sudden hostility she was displaying, and even worse for kissing her boyfriend.

Ever since the group accepted her as one of them, Smackle had been nothing short of a great friend. Sure, she remained brutally direct in voicing her thought and opinions, but there was also something within her that had softened, giving her greater empathy and sensitivity. Farkle had undoubtedly played a huge role in this gradual transformation – while his realistic and quantitative mind was enough to match her own, it was his characteristic gentleness and love that chipped away at her hardened edges and helped her to overcome the limitations presented by Asperger's – all to a note-worthy extent. It was through such that Riley gained a substantial amount of respect and admiration for Smackle, finding Farkle and her to be a solid pair.

"I'm back," Smackle announced, walking back with a teenager in tow.

Maya grabbed Lucas' hand and dragged him to her side as she instructed everyone else to gather in their positions.

While Riley scrambled to situate herself on the other side of Maya, she failed at avoiding Farkle, who swiftly swooped in to occupy the space next to her. With Zay and Smackle holding up the opposite ends, the group huddled together and smiled for the camera.

Farkle had his arm around Riley's waist throughout it, and she couldn't help but draw parallels to the way he'd held her the night before – gentle yet strong. It came across her mind for a split second that perhaps, he too, was thinking the same thing.

After the photos were taken, the friends dispersed yet again, with Smackle going over to retrieve her phone and Riley and Farkle standing next to each other, drowning in a silence that neither one were used to sharing with the other.

"Hey," the boy said out of the blue, turning to face her.

Riley's eyes flitted up to meet his, and it took her everything she could muster to stop herself from looking back down again.

"Sorry I couldn't accompany you home last night," Farkle continued, an apologetic smile passing over his face. "I'm not too sure what happened exactly, but I woke up this morning in Brad's bed."

He grinned and shook his head at the stupidity and un-Farkleness of it.

"Don't worry about it," Riley replied stoically.

By this point, she would have usually burst out laughing, but the girl remained unenthused, her expression drawn tight.

Noticing the change in her demeanour, Farkle wiped the grin off his face and attempted to search her eyes for an answer. She disliked it when he did that, for while she could hide her negative feelings from the majority of her friends with a smile, it was always her eyes who gave everything away – especially to the highly sensitive and observant boy.

"What happened, Riley?" He asked, keeping his voice low to prevent others from listening in.

With Farkle, it was always 'what happened?' and never 'are you alright?', because he believed that the latter was the silliest thing one could ask a person who obviously wasn't fine.

For the first time, Riley wished that he could've asked that question instead of the one that escaped his lips. Then all she would have to say was 'no', and that would be the end of it. With this question, she would have to lie.

"I want you to know that the truth is always the best thing," Farkle had said years ago, back when liking the same boy her best friend did was the worst thing that could happen.

In all their years of friendship, Riley wasn't one to hide secrets from Farkle. He was the person she trusted most, right after Maya. But how could she possibly tell him the truth of this situation? At the back of her mind, she had selfishly hoped that Farkle would be aware of what happened during the party, then at the very least, they could jointly decide where to proceed from there.

However, his question had given her everything that she needed to know: he didn't remember a thing.

"Nothing," Riley finally answered, flashing him a reassuring smile. "I'm just exhausted from last night, that's all."

Farkle gave her a disapproving look. It would take much more than just a smile and a couple of words to convince him otherwise. He knew her too well to fall for such a move.

"We'll continue this conversation later," he said, pointing to Riley and himself just when Smackle returned.

As the bespectacled girl came up to him, he slung an arm across her shoulder and pulled her in, planting a kiss on her forehead. Even after years of dating, the girl's discomfort with skinship was still apparent, but she took it in her stride and reciprocated with a coy smile.

From beside them, Lucas glanced down at his watch and frowned. "I think we should start making our way in," he said to Farkle. "It's a pretty long walk to the gate."

"Okay," Farkle nodded, hoisting his duffle bag over his shoulder. He gave Smackle's hand a tight squeeze and reminded her of their planned Skype date that evening before proceeding to say his private goodbyes to Maya and Zay.

Riley was speaking to Lucas when Farkle finally made his way over to her.

"Take good care of yourself," she blurted out before she could even process what she'd said. As an ironic side note, she added, "I know how wild those freshmen orientation parties can get, so don't cheat on Smackle."

Farkle chuckled. "Everyone important to me is right here in this city. So what I mean to say is – don't worry. I'd never do that to her."

 _Too late_ , Riley wanted to tell him. But instead, she merely nodded her head, falling quiet once more.

"Promise me something," Farkle said with a sudden air of seriousness.

The girl chewed nervously on her bottom lip. "What?" She asked.

"Promise you'll tell me if something goes wrong. I still want to be there for you even when I'm away."

Riley hesitated for a moment, a hundred protests screaming inside her head. She wanted so badly to tell him about their kiss, to not leave her alone with that memory. But she knew it wouldn't do either one of them any good if the matter was brought to light, so she merely nodded, the promise already broken before it was even made.

"Good," Farkle said, seemingly satisfied with her response. "If not I might just fly back 180 miles every other week to check in on you."

He continued to stand there, as if waiting for Riley to make a move. Normally she would be the one reaching in for a hug, but this time she did nothing.

"Have a safe flight, Farkle," was all she said as she waved him away.

Before he could say a thing, Maya dragged him over to Lucas by the arm and proceeded to look back and forth between the two.

"Remember what we agreed on," she reminded them. "Number one: please for the love of God, _do not_ join a fraternity. Number two: come back and visit every chance you've got. And three: don't forget our weekly Skype sessions. Are we clear, boys?"

"For the tenth time, yes," Lucas replied in a slightly exasperated tone while Farkle nodded fervently.

Letting go of Farkle, Maya strode up to the cowboy and glared at him right in the eye. "You say it like that but I know you'll miss me," she said as a matter of fact.

"I sure will," he responded without once breaking eye contact, an affectionate smile sliding into place.

Almost immediately, the blonde girl's expression softened as she pulled him into a tight hug. "I'll see you soon, Huckleberry," she said with an unmistakable tenderness, her head burrowed into the crook of Lucas' neck.

Riley knew that they had just witnessed an intimate moment between the two. On the surface, the couple was always squabbling and bickering with one another, but beneath their petty and occasionally heated quarrels, their love for each other also ran deep and true. But – especially in Maya's case – they just tended to display such charged emotions privately.

"Okay," Maya whispered into his shirt, her arms still wrapped tightly around his waist. "You can go now."

Lucas chuckled. "I can't if you don't let go of me, you know."

The girl lingered in the position for a moment longer before she released him from her embrace. "There," she said, taking a step back.

The four remaining friends looked on as Lucas and Farkle entered the departure hall, turning around to wave farewell a last time before they disappeared behind the glass doors amongst the long lines of tourists.

"I guess it'll be my turn next," Zay piped up from beside the girls when the boys were finally gone for good. He nudged Maya, wiggling his eyebrows cheekily. "Do I get a hug then, too?"

"In your dreams, Babineaux," she returned with snark. Then, turning to Smackle, she asked, "Would you like to join us for brunch?"

The girl smiled agreeably. "Sounds good."

"How about you, Riley?" Maya questioned, looking over at her best friend. "I assume you're coming."

"Sure," Riley replied absentmindedly.

Her thoughts were drifting back to the glance she'd shared with Farkle just before he stepped into the departure hall. It had been fleeting, but worry-free and full of hope and aspirations. The only consolation she got out of this was that he would be leaving for university without any fear or regrets. But in exchange, she knew that she would be sacrificing her own happiness and ignorance.

Watching as Smackle cracked up at something Zay had said, Riley made a promise to herself that she would protect her and Farkle's relationship at all costs.

She owed them at least that much.

* * *

 _A/N: Hey there! I hope you dears liked this chapter c: I wrote it during whatever spare time I had at my current internship, heh. Also, I know the story appears to be progressing slowly, but I didn't want to just dive into the thick of things without first establishing and fleshing out the characters while providing some background information. And because you all have been so incredibly sweet and supportive, I shall tease the next chapter: We'll be catching up with the rest of the Matthews and finding out if 2023 Maya Hart is single or attached. The wedding chapters will be arriving very soon, I promise! As usual, reviews, favs, and follows are loved! Till next time :)_


	6. Chapter 6

**6**

 **Summer 2023**

 **New York | In the Air**

The floor of Riley's bedroom was covered entirely in articles of clothing and shoes as she sorted through her luggage a last time before leaving for the airport. With the wedding taking place over the weekend, she decided at the last minute that she had packed way too many things, thereby justifying her little rampage to bring only what was needed.

Maya accompanied Riley as she did so, lying on the girl's neatly-made bed while her feet hung off the mattress, watching amusedly at the way her friend grumbled under her breath.

"Oh, Maya," the brunette suddenly released a huge sigh, her shoulders visibily deflating.

"What?" She asked.

"Remember how I told Leigh Paxton I'd 'definitely see her tomorrow'? Well, that day's today and I completely forgot that I won't be coming in for work!" Riley said, looking rather done with herself.

Maya let out a hearty laugh at her best friend's ability to latch onto the most mundane of things. "Sweetie, you're actually still on to that? I'm sure they've forgotten it all by now."

"I hope you're right," Riley said as she folded a pajama top on her lap. Placing it in her luggage, she continued. "You know, I accidentally contacted Farkle while you were asleep last night."

Maya's back jolted straight up upon hearing this, her lips turning over into a frown. "You did what?" She demanded.

"I sent a bunch of messages to Farkle from way back in junior year," Riley explained without so much as a hint of emotion.

"Well, did he reply?"

"Yes."

"Then what did you say?!" Maya asked, growing more agitated by the second.

Riley paused before answering. "I…I didn't," she admitted. "I panicked, so before I could do anything he just replied saying 'see you on Sunday'."

The blonde girl relaxed a little, settling back against the headboard as she closed her eyes. "Now that you put it that way, I guess it's doesn't sound _that_ bad. Just take it as a practice run for tomorrow."

"My sentiments exactly!" Riley snapped her fingers brightly, glad that they shared the same perspective.

The main reason why she was emptying her suitcase and filling it back up again was because for the first time in a long while, she'd woken up in the morning feeling troubled and restless. Figuring that some mindless work would help to straighten out and organize her thoughts, she came up with the excuse of having to re-pack her clothes, which so far, was doing a pretty decent job at giving her a peace of mind.

Just then, the doorbell to their apartment rang, causing Maya to scramble excitedly to her feet.

Riley zipped her luggage closed and pushed it away to make room for her friend. "Shall I answer it?" She asked teasingly, already having a good idea as to who it was outside the door.

"Of course not," Maya quipped, teetering across the active landmine of clothes that were strewn all around. Her enthusiasm poured out of her like a waterfall, splattering generous amounts onto Riley who got up to trail along behind her.

There was only ever one boy who could make Maya react the way she did, and dressed in her tanktop and shorts, the girl swung the door open to reveal Joshua Matthews in all of his brown hair, blue-eyed glory.

"Hey there," she breathed, taking in his presence.

Ever since he left on a press tour for the recent documentary he'd directed, Josh had cut his hair shorter as well as swept his fringe back, causing it to stick out in stylish tufts. Together with his heavy eyebags from the many late nights that he'd spent over the last two months, he appeared more tired than usual. However, his pearly white grin still gleamed at the sight of Maya before him.

"Hey beautiful," he greeted, whipping out a bouquet of red roses from behind his back. "I got these for you on the way here."

Maya took the flowers from him and gave them a delighted whiff. "You shouldn't have," she said. "No one will be home to take care of them."

Josh scratched the back of his head. "Well, I know how much you like pressing flowers, so…"

"I was just joking," Maya said, stepping aside so that he could enter the apartment. She patted his cheek playfully before walking towards their open kitchenette to retrieve a vase. "Thanks babe, I love them."

Riley stood at the doorway with her arms crossed, watching fascinatedly as the couple interacted with each other.

Never once had she discounted the feelings that Maya bore for Josh, even when they were just tweens. But as the years went by, she sincerely believed that her best friend would spend the rest of her life with Lucas. That was, until something happened that inevitably tore them apart.

It was ultimately Josh who found himself stepping up to take Lucas' place. Their romance had occurred slowly and gradually, neither one of them in the right state of mind to begin a relationship at the point of their growing friendship. However, two years on and they remained good for each other. In fact, they blended so well as a couple that there hadn't been much protest on either side when they eventually got together – not even from Shawn, ever the protective father figure.

Riley tut-tutted. "Did you forget about me, Uncle Josh?" She asked, leaning against the wall.

Josh smiled as the girl came over to give him a hug. "I can't believe you think so lowly of me," he said, shaking his head disappointedly. "Of course I got my favourite niece something."

"Excuse you, I'm your _only_ niece."

The man unslung his backpack and rummaged through it as he spoke. "I met a guy while touring the country and apparently, he knows of your Forest Meyers."

Riley felt her cheeks heat up. "Not mine," she corrected.

"He picked that one up from me," Maya winked, coming over to see what they were up to.

She had placed the vase of roses atop the little coffee table in their living room, which was made out of driftwood and painted over with a bright shade of turquoise.

Josh smirked, his eyes still fixated on the contents of his bag. "Yeah," he agreed, "She's a real bad influence, this one."

Then, finally finding what he'd been looking for, he raised his head and handed Riley a yellow eyelet-string envelope.

"What's this?" She asked, unwinding the white string that bound it.

"Just a little compilation of pictures from your favourite photographer," Josh said, looking pleased with himself.

Riley opened the envelope and slid out a thick A5 booklet with glossy pages. Both the front and back covers were completely white, without a single word or symbol printed on them. But upon flipping the book open, each page burst forth with bright and colorful images – some portraits, some candids and others pictures of things on the street that most wouldn't even bother to notice. She could recognize some of the photographs from past editions of _The New Collective._

Riley held the book tight to her chest. "It's wonderful, Josh. Thank you," she said gratefully. "I never knew he sold prints, or I would've purchased them all by now!"

"That's the thing," Josh replied, his eyebrows furrowing. "It seemed like there was only one. The man came up to me at one of our screenings and struck up a conversation. Just before he left, he asked if I wanted a book from Forest Meyers. I knew you like him a lot so I just decided to take it."

Maya appeared thoroughly amused. "Mama Matthews didn't teach you not to accept things from strangers?"

Josh gave her a pointed look before turning back to Riley, who was now tracing her fingers over the spine of the book. "Anyway, I hope you like it," he said, zipping his bag and slinging it back over his shoulders.

"I do," the girl flashed him a sincere smile. "I'm glad you took it."

Hanging on the wall above them, a little bird suddenly emerged from its enclosure in the clock and released a series of _'cuckoo!'_ s before disappearing back behind its two flaps. It was nine in the morning, and their flight was due to leave at eleven.

Maya let out a low whistle as she headed for the room. "Looks like it's time to go, guys," she beckoned. "Mum's going to kill me if we miss this flight."

Riley made her way over to the kitchen countertop and slid the book into her yellow structured bag. She had initially planned on bringing another novel to keep herself occupied during the short-haul flights from New York and back, but now, she had something even better.

* * *

Josh cruised down the highway in his sleek, blue Range Rover – a purchase that had been split between him and his roommate. It was a logical move, really, considering the fact that they weren't just friends, but also co-workers who worked together on film projects. They needed a sturdy form of transportation that could hustle their equipment and manpower around…or on other days, ferry his two favourite ladies to the airport.

Maya was sitting next to him in the front seat while Riley took the back, and it suddenly occurred to him that he couldn't remember when the two girls swapped positions. It used to be Riley who sat shotgun while Maya occupied the backseat.

He drummed his fingers along the steering wheel, pondering over it. Somewhere along the way, Maya had taken a huge precedence in his life – something which he never thought would happen back when he was eighteen, and she, fifteen.

Even at the time of his reaching out to her, it had only been because she needed help. And while it took several years to progress, their friendship eventually blossomed into mutual feelings of love and affection.

He could recall when he used to look upon Maya's persistent crush as nothing more than just a passing infatuation, a desire to be even more a part of the Matthews family than she already was. And he had been right. With Lucas entering the picture, Josh had taken a backseat for awhile, during which he also dated other girls, though none to much success.

However, when he finally returned into Maya's life, she was no more the teenager that he had come to know, but rather, an eighteen-year-old who was forced to grow up too soon. She had given up on the long game by that point, but the long game didn't give up on her.

Now, looking at Maya with her wavy blonde hair and larger-than-life smile, he saw her for who she was – the happy-go-lucky girl with an old soul; the artist, both creator and destroyer in life and on canvas.

He wished that she could see herself through his eyes and realise the beauty that shone through her strengths and weaknesses. That how, even two years on, he could still see the hint of sorrow in her emerald green pupils from time to time and constantly wished it away from her.

He felt a sudden surge of emotion rush through his veins.

"I hope you don't mind us, Riley," Josh pre-empted the girl as he took his right hand off the steering wheel and reached out for Maya, who looked over at him in surprise.

Riley leaned towards the front of the car and smiled at the two. "Of course I don't. I'm your biggest fan," she said, plucking Maya's left hand from her lap and placing it on top of Josh's.

Although slightly taken aback, the blonde girl quickly warmed up to the action and proceeded to wrap her fingers tightly around his, casting him a wide grin.

Their eyes, crinkled into tiny crescent moons, met for a moment before Josh turned to look back at the traffic ahead, a smile tugging at the edges of his lips.

* * *

"Riley!"

A teenage boy with a mop of curly brown hair leapt up from his seat at the sight of his sister strolling into the departure lounge with Maya and Josh. From beside him, Cory and Topanga poked their heads out to see who it was, their lips turning over into smiles upon seeing the lot approaching them.

"Hey Augs," the brunette greeted, pulling Auggie into a tight hug. "Hi mum, hi dad," she continued, peering over her brother's back as she said so.

Despite having last seen him at a family dinner just a couple of days ago, Auggie seemed to have grown taller since then. At the age of fourteen, he was already up to her forehead and gaining fast. In fact, he would probably be towering over her in a few months' time.

She released the boy from her grasp, only to have him be grabbed into a firm headlock by Josh, who playfully ruffled his sandy brown curls.

"Uncle Josh! I'm not six anymore!" Auggie protested, laughing as he struggled to break free from his uncle's grasp.

"Yeah, Josh, let the poor boy go!" Maya played along and swatted her boyfriend's arm. "You're embarrassing him!"

Josh snuck in one last pat on Auggie's head before releasing him, raising both hands in mock surrender. "Sorry," he grinned. "Reflexes."

Topanga stood up and nudged her head in the direction of the queue that was beginning to form at the front of the plane entrance. "You guys came just in time," she said, pressing a hand on Riley's back. "Let's board our flight."

As the group made their way over to the counter and up the airplane, Riley noticed how unusually quiet her father was, his lips tugging up into a ghost of a smile whenever something funny was being said but never really getting into it.

"What's up with him?" Riley whispered to Topanga as they squeezed down the narrow aisle and stopped before their allotted seats – two rows of three – by the right side of the airplane.

"He's just feeling a little conflicted over his promotion," she replied, watching her husband slide into the innermost seat next to the window. "I could use a little help in offering him some fresh perspective. Auggie and I have been trying for _days_ to get him to see things from our point of view."

Riley pursed her lips as she studied her father, staring dazedly out of the window. Perhaps they could get something out of each other during the three-hour flight. If their time as teacher and student and father and daughter had taught her anything, it was that they learnt and grew best together.

"I'm sitting next to you, dad," the girl declared.

Before Cory could protest, Riley grabbed her hand-carry luggage and hoisted it up into the compartment above their seats, slamming it shut with an air of finality.

"Atta girl," Topanga beamed as she plopped herself down onto the aisle seat next to Riley. Behind them, Auggie shared the row with Josh and Maya, sitting innocently between the couple.

"What plan have you got up your sleeve this time, Topanga?" Cory looked past Riley with narrowed eyes, a childish hint of defiance written across his face.

The woman with luscious brown hair settled comfortably back against her seat. "None, actually," she replied, simply looking ahead with a sly smile.

Shoving her head in front of Topanga to block Cory's view of her, Riley lifted the armrest that lay in-between them. "This flight's just going to be about you and me, dad," she said, shifting a little closer to him. "We're going to solve your dilemma once and for all."

"Oh boy," Cory sighed, seemingly having given up.

A few minutes later, the plane started on its steep ascent into the sky, eventually reaching cruising altitude. The soft chatters of people around them and the rolling of carts pushed by flight attendants jolted Riley out from her silence.

"So, dad, would you like to tell me what's holding you back from taking up the offer?" She finally asked Cory, who responded by giving her a sideways glance.

Three years on and her father was as stubborn as ever, often taking a long time to warm up to the advice of others. The problem that was currently occupying his thoughts was the offer of a promotion by the New York board of education to become principal.

After countless years of teaching, Riley personally believed that it was about time he was acknowledged and rewarded for his passion and contributions to the community. And while he had been sitting on the offer for a number of weeks now, it didn't seem like he was getting anywhere close to making a decision. This, of course, called for a good ol' dose of Matthews intervention.

"Remember when Maya was afraid of change? To enter high school not knowing what exactly it would bring?" Cory finally answered.

Riley nodded. _Yes_ , of course she did.

"Well, that's me right now, Riley," he said, his words laced with dread. "I like where I am, teaching history and making a personal impact on my students' lives. _Here_ , on the ground."

The girl stifled a laugh.

"What?"

"Actually, we're in the air."

This had the intended effect of making Cory smile, albeit somewhat exasperatedly. "Very funny, Riley."

Nonetheless, the girl could see him start to relax a little, much to her relief.

"As Iwas saying," he continued, his tone slightly less heavy, "I feel perfectly happy being in a classroom. At least there, I know I can make a difference. Rising up the ranks isn't all good. It comes with greater responsibility and even greater restrictions. I'm just not sure if I'm ready for that. You have experienced for yourself how cruel the board can be, and it's all because of their detatchment from the students."

Riley felt for her father's conflicted sentiments. On one hand, he wanted to accept the offer so that he could make a bigger difference in the lives of his students. But on the other, he was afraid of experiencing first-hand, the limitations that the district board might give him. He had inexplicably found himself treading the fine line between having too much power and too little.

She thought about this for a moment, struggling to put her feelings across in words. It was a sensation that tingled at the back of her mind since that morning and packaged itself as the solution to all of her problems – or, at least, gave her the courage to face them.

Slowly, she began to speak. "If…if the only thing that's holding you back is fear…well, I don't think you should let it."

Cory watched her closely, perhaps realizing that she was also speaking for herself.

"Sure, the board of education may be sickeningly rigid, but it's precisely why we need people like _you_ to change things, no matter how small the difference."

Riley gave him a tight-lipped smile. "And honestly, I think you're the best there is."

She could see Cory's face run through a series of emotions before settling on one – gratitude.

He nodded his head slowly in acknowledgement of what she'd said. "Thank you, Riley," he said, viewing her with something that she recognised as pride. "It means a lot to me."

There was a slight pause before he continued. "You know, I heard from Shawn that Farkle and Lucas are coming to the wedding, and I know you haven't been in touch with them for a long time. So if you ever want me to tell them to leave you alone, just let me know and I'll –"

"No, dad!" Riley exclaimed, flabbergasted by the very thought of it. "No, there's no need for that."

Cory raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Really? I figured that after all this time…"

"That after all this time, I should stop running away and face them?" Riley completed his sentence. "Then, yes."

"Wow, what's this sudden character development I'm seeing?" He asked, giving her a look of disbelief. "I'm impressed."

Riley smiled to herself. "Just learning to practice what I preach. You should try it sometime, dad."

Cory laughed, causing Topanga to glance over at her husband and daughter with a grin on her face. She had probably been eavesdropping on their conversation the entire time and just decided to show it.

"It's perfectly fine if you're not ready to see them, Riley," Topanga said to the girl as she gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "And it's also fine to want to see them again. It's happened to all of us, from your Uncle Eric and Jack to even Aunt Angela and I."

"And things are good now, aren't they?" Riley asked hopefully, meaning it as more of a statement rather than a question.

Cory smiled reassuringly.

"As good as we make them to be."

Riley turned around to look at Maya, who had her headphones on and was currently staring intently at the screen in front of her.

If there was anyone who had it worse-off, it would be Maya, and Riley wondered how she was coping with the idea of seeing Lucas again. Even after so long, she disliked talking about what had happened, choosing to pretend that it never occurred in the first place.

But with each passing second, there was no denying that the plane was hurtling the two girls closer to them. Closer to Texas.

* * *

 _A/N: Hey guys! First things first, I really didn't intend for this chapter to be so long, but I guess...it kinda just happened (haha). Secondly, have you seen the S3 Girl Meets World promo? I died a little inside just watching it - it looks so good! Gosh, June can't come any sooner. But all that aside, I hope you've enjoyed this recent chapter. If you haven't yet realised, the first revelation of this story is Josh dating present day Maya. The progression of their relationship will definitely be unveiled over the coming chapters, and four of the high five finally meet in the next one, so stay tuned for it c: As usual, feel free to let me know what you think by leaving a review - they are a source of my motivation! Till the next chapter, I hope all of you have a great week ahead :)_


	7. Chapter 7

**7**

 **Summer 2023**

 **Texas**

At three in the afternoon, a few hours after the Matthews had landed, two young men strolled out of the sliding doors of _Austin-Bergstrom International Airport_ with their luggage in tow.

The sun greeted them with a relentless assault against the gravelly asphalt, and the ground beneath their feet burnt hot and uncomfortable.

"I'm surprised you didn't take your private jet," Lucas commented, turning his face up to the heat like it was something that soothed rather than seared. Then, as if realizing he might've said something offensive, he quickly corrected himself. "I mean, not that First Class wasn't great or anything. Thanks for the ticket, by the way."

A smile passed over Farkle's face. "You're welcome," he said, looking down at his smartphone as he traced his eyes over the thick blue line that highlighted the path to the car rental centre located within the vicinity of the airport. He motioned for Lucas to follow and made a right turn.

"Anyway," he continued, "I would have, if my father had decided to come along. But even then, it'd be his idea to take it. Not mine."

"Would've probably hired a chauffeur, too," Lucas added.

Farkle shook his head – not in disagreement with what his friend had said, but at his father's predictable choices. Stuart Minkus was a man who had forged his place in the world, and he certainly wasn't one to shy away from the luxuries he'd earned.

Before them, a green billboard with the words **'RENT-A-CAR'** appeared in their line of sight, along with rows of stationary cars in varying shades of dull colours. Both the anticipation to get his hands on the steering wheel and the need to escape the sweltering heat caused Farkle to hasten towards it, proof of his booking already tucked in the back pocket of his jeans.

"Afternoon, ma'am. My friend and I are here to pick our car up," he said upon entering the cramped shop. A tiny bell attached to the door tinkled softly above their heads, surprising him for a moment. Stores hardly saw the need to keep up with such novelties these days, but there it was – a little blast from the past.

The woman behind the counter stopped to appraise the boys through a pair of thin-rimmed glasses that perched precariously on the bridge of her nose. As her gaze landed on Farkle, a faint hint of recognition seemed to pass over her face before disappearing as quickly as it came.

She stuck her hand out to them. "Your booking slip, please."

Farkle passed a folded piece of paper to her and in return, had a set of car keys dropped into his hand. "Thanks," he said, closing his fingers around it.

As much as the thought of meeting Riley and Maya daunted him, he was grateful for what would be a temporary reprieve from the hustle and bustle of city life. _Minkus International_ had spread its connections far and wide but rarely had much to do in Texas, meaning that the chances of him being recognized there drastically decreased along with it. The woman's obliviousness to his identity only served to affirm that fact.

Lucas stepped in stride with Farkle towards the grey Toyota sedan that sat patiently awaiting their arrival.

"Want me to drive?" He offered.

"I'll do it," Farkle replied, grabbing the handle to the door of the driver's seat and pulling it open. As the key's sensors in his pocket unlocked the car with a loud click, he tossed a smile over his shoulder and said, "You can help by navigating."

The boy slid into the driver's seat and started the engine, feeling the car sputter asthmatically to life around him. It had been awhile since he last drove, but that didn't mean his skills were any less rusty. He felt his muscle memories kick into action as he gripped the top of the steering wheel, letting his hands slide slowly down the left and right sides till he felt comfortable.

From beside him, Lucas let out a contented sigh. "It feels kind of great to be back. I didn't realise how much I missed this place till now."

"Are you going to visit your parents?" Farkle asked as he lowered his foot onto the gas pedal and forwarded the car out of the parking lot onto the main road.

Lucas nodded. "Yeah. In fact, I'm extending my stay for a couple more days. Turn left."

Farkle heeded his instruction and continued to drive down the straight path which was flanked on either side by wheat plantations. It was only seconds later that Lucas' words began to sink in, and his eyes widened at the sudden realisation.

"Wait, _what_ did you say?"

"I'm staying over with my parents for a few days after the wedding," Lucas repeated, completely oblivious to Farkle's horrified response.

There was a long pause before the boy glanced over at him, bemused. "You _do_ know that I've already booked your plane ticket back to Boston, right?"

Lucas ceased fiddling with the dials on the car stereo in front of him.

" _Oh_." He blinked. " _No._ "

"It's fine. Don't worry about it," Farkle waved his hand, quick to reassure the cowboy. "I'll just give the airline a call and let them know to offer the seat up to the next person who comes along." A little smile formed on his face. "Who knows, someone might be in need of a free ticket."

"You sure about that? I could just cancel my plans and come back some other time–"

Farkle laughed, cutting his sentence short. "You mean take the flight home and jump on board the next one out? Relax, Friar. It's fine."

"I'll take your word for it, then," Lucas leaned back against the headrest and closed his eyes. "Thanks, man."

Farkle smirked. "You can just add that to the long list of favours you still owe me."

* * *

The rest of their drive continued in silence, undercut only by the endless string of country music blasting from the radio. Lucas, head turned towards the window, watched as the fields whizzed by till they were a soft blur, one indistinguishable from the next.

It was quiet moments like this which indicated to Farkle that his friend's thoughts were once again occupied by Maya Hart. The frequency of such happenings had increased sharply over the last week, the most recent being his stumble with the girl at _Emmet's_ just the night before. Unlike Farkle, who at least had a quarrel with Riley to justify their broken friendship, Lucas was left alone to figure out what had gone wrong without so much as an explanation.

From a few metres away, a wooden sign that read 'COPPERFIELD FARM' could finally be spotted next to a side road that branched out from the main path. Noting it as the venue indicated on their invites, Farkle turned right and drove down the narrow lane which brought them to a small farm that also served as a bed and breakfast.

The carpark was a rectangular patch of flattened dirt, its lots marked out on the ground with thick chalk markings. Most of them were already filled up, and the guests who had arrived were streaming in and out the entrance of the B&B – a white, four-storey bungalow with a grey-tiled roof. The entire property was surrounded by a tall picket fence, and in the middle of a grassy pasture further away, stood an illustrious brown barn with a shiny, copper gambrel befitting of its name.

"Farkle," Lucas suddenly said, rising from the back rest as he squinted through the windshield.

"Just give me a sec," the boy replied. In one swift motion, he shifted gears and slowly began to reverse the car into a tiny parking lot between two vehicles.

After successfully parking the car, Farkle cut the engines and turned to face Lucas. However, all that was left was an empty seat – freshly vacated – followed by the sound of a door slamming shut in his face.

"What the –"

Farkle looked ahead to see his friend marching up towards a young man and woman standing beside a black van, the large floral arrangements in their hands towering well above their heads. Lucas had been getting into more verbal fights than usual and he hoped to God that this wasn't another one of them.

He hurried across the long carpark and managed to reach Lucas just as he was about to confront the two. A rehearsed apology already hanging at the tip of his tongue, he turned to the man and woman, only to find Zay and Riley staring back at him with their eyes widened in surprise.

Farkle stopped dead in his tracks. He certainly hadn't planned on meeting them this way.

"H-Hey," he managed, his voice faltering.

He could feel Riley's gaze sweep him once over before her lips curled up into a little smile.

"Hey," she returned softly.

It was Zay who broke the eventual silence that followed, using his right shoulder to wipe the bead of sweat trickling down his forehead. "Well, this is pretty awkward," he commented. "What's up, Luke? We're a little preoccupied here, if you couldn't tell."

As if snapping out of a trance, Lucas shook his head in an attempt to get rid of the thoughts clouding his head. "Sorry, I – it's nothing," he stammered, taking a step back away from them.

Riley shifted her weight, looking slightly uncomfortable. "If there's nothing we can do to help then I suppose we better get going." She flashed both boys a quick smile. "Bridesmaid duty calls."

Before either of them could say anything, she continued. "It's really nice seeing you again, though." Her eyes flickered over to Farkle's for a fleeting second. "You, too."

Farkle's head snapped up in surprise. Hearing her acknowledge him after years of not talking felt strangely cathartic, and it unwound a ball of pressure in his chest that he didn't even know resided there in the first place.

Looking at Riley, he could see that her appearance had changed in subtle ways since they last saw each other, the most noticeably being her dark brown hair. Previously kept long, it was now chopped at her shoulders. She also seemed to have adopted a more matured and minimal style to her way of dressing, and was presently clad in a loose grey shirt tucked in a pair of light blue skinny jeans. Earthy brown boots helped to complete the simple outfit, and it intrigued him how she now radiated a confidence and self-assurance that had been missing all those years ago.

"Hey!" Zay suddenly exclaimed, tearing Farkle's focus back to him. "Why don't we catch up over dinner tonight? It'll be just like the good ol' days. Ain't that right, Riley?"

A hint of startle slipped across her face, only to be masked by another one of her patronising smiles. Contrary to what Farkle had expected, the girl nodded her head in agreement. "Sure," she replied chirpily. "I'll let Maya know and get Zay to text you guys the details later. You two fine with that?"

"Yeah, we are…" Lucas trailed off, exchanging a puzzled look with Farkle.

"Great!" The girl readjusted her grip on the floral bouquet. "I guess we'll see you then."

She started to head in the direction of the barn, but almost instinctively, Farkle found himself stepping forward.

"Wait," he choked out.

Although barely audible, it stopped Riley and Zay in their tracks.

" _Wait_ ," Farkle repeated, clearer this time.

He silently cursed himself for the sudden outburst. What on earth was he doing? Now he had to come up with something to say.

"Do you…need any help?"

Looking slightly amused, Riley shook her head. "Thanks, but we're good."

Zay wagged a finger at them. "Have you two learnt _nothing_ about girl power?" He asked, his serious expression melting away into a grin as soon as he said it.

"Oh shut up, Zay," Riley rolled her eyes. "You know for a fact it doesn't work that way."

"I was just joking!" He replied, turning his back to Farkle and Lucas as they resumed their walk to the barn.

Farkle watched as the two bickered amongst themselves, their voices growing softer the further they went. He knew that Zay always had a soft spot for Riley, making fun of and treating her as an older brother would. Their friendship, which grew rapidly in high school, had evidently strengthened over the last three years. And knowing him, he was probably as protective towards the girl as older brothers usually were.

Farkle was glad for this, because it meant that Riley had been well taken care of while he was gone. In fact, he and Lucas still met up with Zay from time to time, more than enough for the latter to be privy to the falling out that occurred between the rest of them.

"I guess we're all just going to pretend that this whole rift never happened, huh?" Lucas speculated from beside him.

Farkle shrugged, remembering the Facebook messages he'd received from Riley just the night before. He'd figured that they were probably old messages from years ago that didn't manage to get sent out at the time. Well, Riley certainly didn't seem fazed by it during their brief encounter.

"What's new?" He sighed, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans as they strolled back to retrieve their luggage from the car that they had hastily abandoned. "Also, why did you just take off like that?"

Lucas' fingers grasped at the air like he could pluck an answer from nothing. "I guess I thought that Maya would be there," he answered truthfully.

Farkle nodded slowly. "Well...you'll be meeting her tonight."

A steely resolve glazed over Lucas' eyes. "I know."

* * *

Once they were out of earshot, Riley glared daggers at Zay, hoping that he could feel even just a semblance of a stab.

"What was that about?!" She demanded, the flower bouquet that weighed heavy in her hands only serving to annoy her more.

"What was what about?" Zay asked coolly.

"Why did you just…invite them for dinner like nothing's wrong?"

When Maya sent them out to fetch the floral arrangements from the supplier's van, the last thing Riley expected was to bump into Farkle, much less both him _and_ Lucas. She could feel her arms trembling ever-so-slightly, and she wasn't even sure if it was due to the flowers.

However, she knew she'd managed to put up a cool front. A little more jittery than usual, but she still managed to hide the fact that her nerves were going on absolute overdrive, especially when Zay sprang a surprise like that. For as much as she was ready to make her peace with Farkle, it was easier said than done, and it would certainly take some time till she got used to having him around again.

They arrived at the barn, and Zay settled his bouquet of flowers at the side of the wedding aisle before helping Riley with hers.

"I thought you wanted all this to be done with," he said, straightening up. "And I've got to be honest, it's infuriating seeing my friends like this."

Riley studied Zay for a moment, his eyebrows scrunched into a frown. She knew she couldn't blame him for feeling this way. He had been trapped between their two feuds for the past three years wihout knowing fully the reasons why they occurred. And yet he remained impartial towards both sides – the unforeseen glue that held the group together by a thin thread. He must have wished things didn't turn out the way they did; must have wished for this moment for the longest time.

The girl sighed, running a hand through her hair, the clumps that were close to her neck now slicked with sweat. "I know, Zay, and I'm sorry. But just because I'm ready for this doesn't mean Maya is."

Zay looked down at his feet. "Damn, does that mean the dinner's been called off?"

"No, of course not," Riley answered confidently, glancing across the barn to where Maya stood with Topanga. They were discussing the layout of the venue, and around them, helpers arranged white, foldable wooden chairs for the guests to sit on the day of the wedding.

"Wait here," she instructed Zay.

"Where are you going?" He asked.

"I'm going to reveal the bad news to her and then convince her to come." Riley smiled as she started for Maya. "Wish me luck."

"Tell her the food's gonna be great!" Zay cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted.

The brunette gave him a dismissive wave. This was something that food wouldn't be able to solve.

Good thing she was fond of puzzles.

* * *

 _A/N: Hi guys_ _! I'm back with another update, and...our kids finally meet again! Wasn't it so awkward, though? I was literally cringing from all the awkward vibes I was getting while writing that portion of the chapter haha. Anyway, just a random thought, but don't you think Riley and Zay would make really good friends? I'm 99% sure he has a soft spot for that brunette, so I thought it would be cool to develop their friendship in the story as well. Also, thanks for all the support guys, it really spurs me on :') I'm not going to give any spoilers so you'll just have to wait to see how the rest of the plot unveils ;) I hope you guys liked the chapter and feel free to let me know what you think by leaving a review! Favs and follows are also very much appreciated. Till the next chapter! c:_


	8. Chapter 8

**8**

 **Summer 2023**

 **Texas**

Maya yanked a brush through her heat-frizzed hair, attempting to untangle the knots that nestled in her curls. She'd just taken a quick shower after a long afternoon of helping Katy with her wedding preparations, but with the impending dinner, there just hadn't been enough time to wash her hair.

"Ah, fuck it," she sighed in annoyance, laying the brush down onto the vanity table in front of her. She supposed a ponytail would have to do.

As her fingers worked their way through her hair, she observed her reflection in the mirror, trying to push her frown into a believable smile. Unlike her best friend, it was difficult for her to fake one. Just the thought of trying served to propel her irritation.

The only reason why she agreed to go for the dinner in the first place was because Riley had done a pretty good job at convincing her to, pushing at all the right buttons.

* * *

 _"_ _I won't force you to go if you don't want to," the brunette said. "But you should know that your absence will only make Lucas pry for more answers. At least with this dinner, you won't have to face him alone."_

 _Maya shook her head, still unable to comprehend the fact that they were all actually_ meeting _for the first time in three years. She'd known that she wouldn't be able to avoid Lucas during the wedding, but she was only prepared for small talk and occasional greetings, not rambling conversations over meals. Her secret had been shoved deep within her for so long that she was afraid the sight of him would cause everything she'd tried so hard to forget, to come rushing back._

 _"_ _I should have told my mum 'no' when she decided to invite Lucas," she found herself saying._

 _How cowardly it was, to hide and hide and avoid everything that hurt. That was why she'd stopped herself from protesting before, a generous action she was starting to second-guess now._

 _"_ _You can't stay away forever and you know that," Riley reminded her, looking her square in the eyes. "You left Lucas without an explanation and he deserves some answers…even if what you tell him isn't the full truth."_

 _Maya chewed on her bottom lip. Breaking up with him hadn't been easy – it was one of the hardest things she ever had to do – and it was all because of her persistence to keep him from the truth, a decision which everyone else important in her life had respected. But Riley had a point. While attempting to suppress her own emotions and protect Lucas, she'd inexplicably left him hanging and waiting for her to change her mind and come back._

 _She remained silent up to this point, only responding when Riley placed a hand on her shoulder. The comforting pressure made her feel slightly braver, like the girl was an anchor to which Maya could hold on tightly to._

 _"_ _This could finally be the closure he needs," Riley said, giving the girl's shoulder a gentle squeeze. "Whaddya say, peaches? It's alright if you still don't want to."_

 _After a moment of silence, Maya closed her eyes. "No, it's fine," she relented. "I'll go."_

 _Riley looked like she was about to pull her into a tight hug, but before she could do so, Maya held up a hand and warned, "I better not be having to talk fifty-percent of the time, though."_

 _"_ _You won't," the girl smiled, dropping her arm back to her side. "Zay and I have got it handled."_

* * *

Maya threw one last glance at the mirror before reaching out to open the door, but it suddenly swung forward, causing her to step back in surprise.

"I'm back!" Josh entered the room, brandishing his hotel card. However, upon seeing Maya in her flowing white dress and gladiator sandals, his expression fell.

"And you're leaving," he pointed out, sounding let down.

Maya laughed bitterly. "Riley didn't tell you? We're meeting Lucas and Farkle for dinner tonight."

A look of amusement overtook the boy's face before he realized it wasn't a joke. "Oh," he breathed, taking a moment to process this. His concerned gaze settled on the girl's solemn features. "Will you be okay? Would you like me to accompany you there?"

"I'll be fine," Maya assured him, patting his chest. "You, in the meantime, can go have fun on my behalf."

Josh grabbed her hand and pulled her closer to him. "I was actually hoping we could go out on a date, but I guess not." He placed a quick peck on her forehead. "Seriously, though. Let me know if he does anything to make you feel uncomfortable. You got that?"

Maya smiled at his show of protectiveness. Behind her independent, nonchalant front, the feeling of being looked out for felt nice, though Lucas hurting her wasn't really something he had to worry about.

"Relax, big guy," she assured him. "It'll just be a friendly meal, not an interrogation."

Josh released the blonde and moved aside to make room for her to leave. "Don't get me wrong," he stated, a playful smile tugging at his lips. "I'm just fulfilling my obligations as your boyfriend. Not that I actually care."

"Oh sure you don't," Maya replied sarcastically. "See you later, Josh."

She pushed past him and stepped out onto the corridor, only to have him call out to her just as she was about to close the door.

"Hey."

Maya paused, tossing him a snide look. "What now?"

Josh tilted his head in show of the slightest nod. "You'll be okay," he said it like it was a fact.

The girl blinked. Those three words sunk and settled down into the pit of her stomach, spreading a sort of warmth that could only be described as uplifting. She wasn't certain if he'd said it for her or for himself, but either way, hearing him say that helped her believe in it more, that _she would really be okay._

She gave him a small wave and shut the door behind her, staring across the empty hallway that led to the lift. Sucking in a deep breath, she took a step forward and headed down to the lobby where Riley and Zay were waiting.

* * *

The diner that Zay had chosen to bring them to was a ten-minute drive away from _Copperfield Farm_ , one in a cluster of other eateries found at the edge of the city. Compared to their isolated bed-and-breakfast, the streets here were paved with proper cement instead of dusty roads, and crowds could be seen entering and leaving restaurants, an indication that they were bordering the outskirts of civilisation.

Zay pulled his car to a stop at the public carpark beside _Bobby's Pizzeria_ , a diner resembling those found in the 1950s with their bright neon signages and sparkling silver countertops. He turned to the two girls sitting in the backseat and smiled.

"Meet my family's go-to place for spaghetti and pizza," he introduced, unbuckling his seatbelt. "Let's go, Farkle said he's already gotten us a table."

Riley stepped out of the car to be greeted by a blast of hot air.

"It sure is hot," Maya muttered under her breath.

Together, they walked in silence towards the diner where a short queue had already formed. Being a frequent patron, Zay merely greeted the waitress with a wink and proceeded to usher the girls inside. The interior of the place, though slightly dull, was warm and cosy with its checkered black-and-white tiled walls and large, cushioned cubicles – one of which Farkle and Lucas were already sitting in.

Both of them looked up upon hearing footsteps approach the table, and almost immediately, Riley could feel the atmosphere grow awkward and tensed like ice freezing over the surface of a lake. The fact that Maya and Lucas were completely avoiding eye contact didn't seem to help the situation either.

Riley slipped on a smile and slid onto the bench next to Lucas, their knees nearly touching as she made some space for Maya to sit beside her.

"So," she greeted with the nod of her head, meeting Farkle's blue eyes from across the table. "Does the food look any good?"

The boy's gaze lowered back to the menu in front of him. "Yeah, we were thinking of ordering the short-rib pizza, actually. It says here that it's a chef recommendation."

Somehow, the mention of ribs triggered a distant memory of Farkle, arms-deep in meat and bones during their first meal in Texas back when they were in middle school. Riley often found herself suppressing little reminders like this that were induced by familiar places and experiences, but today, she allowed it to hit her in full force, feeling nostalgia for the very people who were sitting around her.

"It's Zay-recommended, too," Zay butted in from beside Farkle, jolting her back to the present. "Why don't I just go ahead and make the orders? I'm pretty sure I can remember your favourite foods even after all these years."

Lucas nodded agreeably. "Go ahead, bud."

After ensuring that no one else protested the idea, Zay raised his hand to grasp the attention of a nearby waitress. Clad in a white dress with a peter pan collar, Riley noticed that the woman's uniform was slightly different from the rest – her dress' cloth belt had been removed, causing it to hang loosely at the waist. It was only when the woman turned to the side to grab her notepad and pencil that she realised why.

She was heavily pregnant, and the large curve of her belly protruded out as she waddled over to their table with a smile. Judging by her appearance, she couldn't be very much older than the rest of them.

Riley opened her mouth, wanting to question the woman's decision to work in such a precarious state, but Zay's voice rang out before she could even utter a word.

"Hey Rosaria," he greeted with a wide grin. "Looking great as always."

"If by 'great' you mean fat and bloated, then, yes. I _am_ looking pretty darn great," Rosaria said as she rubbed her belly. "Who's this good-looking bunch you've got here? I haven't seen them around before."

"These," Zay gestured to the group, "are my childhood friends. We sort of drifted apart over the last couple of years, but we're figuring things out."

Riley waved while the others smiled stiffly, probably all groaning inwardly at Zay's habit of revealing unnecessary information to uninvolved parties. However, Rosaria merely let out a soft 'ah…', either disinterested in their personal lives or trying to help diffuse the already-strained atmosphere. From the way she observed them, it was most likely the latter.

"Are you ready to place your order?" She prompted, her pencil poised on the notepad.

Zay flipped through the menu and started to list off dishes with each passing page. By the time Rosaria left to key in their orders, Riley had completely lost track of what he'd said. She leaned across the table and propped her chin up with one hand.

"Is this going to be _your_ treat, Zay?" She asked sweetly, tilting her head to a side.

He smirked as if he had been expecting the question. "Why yes," he answered, causing Maya to straighten her posture in excitement. "…But only if you go along with what I'm about to do."

The girl slumped back against her seat.

"Since I was the one who gathered all of you here, I kind of have a responsibility to make sure this dinner doesn't crash and burn," Zay explained. He reached for his back pocket and pulled out a deck of cards held in place by a rubber band.

"Poker?" Lucas raised his eyebrow questioningly.

Farkle shook his head, appraising the stack in Zay's hand. "They're conversation cards."

"Bingo," Zay said, removing the rubber band and shuffling the cards with swiftness and precision. "I borrowed them from the old lady who owns the farm. She said it really helps to get the ball rolling with her and her friends."

Maya scoffed. "This isn't freshman orientation, Zay."

To her right, Riley felt Lucas shift restlessly, and for once she was glad to have had the foresight to plant herself between Maya and him. He would probably be staring the girl down by now if she hadn't.

Zay laid the deck of cards at the centre of the table and drew one off the top. "You're right," he said. "But this isn't exactly a normal dinner, either. We'll go around in a circle and take turns to answer the prompt, 'aight?."

He glanced down at the card in his hand and read it aloud. "What's your favourite colour?"

For a moment, everyone remained silent, waiting patiently for the prompt. It was only a split-second later that they realised the question had already been read.

"Are you serious?" Lucas asked, dumbfounded.

Much to her surprise, Riley found herself seconding his reaction. Apparently, they had all been expecting something that would actually get them _talking._ What they got instead were questions that dredged up little quirks and details about each other that they already knew the answers to.

Sensing this, Zay put the card aside and drew another. "Forget about that. Let's have a look at this one." His eyebrows knitted into a frown. "Have you ever been on a date that didn't go well?"

Wincing, he flipped it over and grabbed another.

"Do you think a large age difference is unimportant in a relationship?"

Maya threw him a pointed glare as he quickly reached for another.

"Do you have any artistic talents?"

"I can't believe I'm saying this but I think I'm being personally victimized by a stack of cards," Maya deadpanned.

Riley's hands shot out and dragged the remainder of the cards over to her side. "You know what, I don't think this is such a good idea," she told Zay, letting out an awkward laugh.

The five of them simply shared too many of the same experiences. It was strange how they knew each other so well and yet couldn't bring themselves to carry a proper conversation, let alone answer a simple question. They'd all seen each other at their worst, and with this usually making or breaking a relationship, it had evidently broken theirs. So there they were now, stuck in limbo – too close to forget and too distant to make amends.

For once, Zay looked like he was at a loss.

"You know, I'm starting to think that this was a bad idea," Maya said, throwing her hands up in defeat. She got off the seat and grabbed her bag, starting to make her way towards the exit.

"Maya, wait–" Lucas stood up halfway in an attempt to stop the girl from leaving, but was unable to do so with Riley blocking the way.

All of a sudden, a loud crash that sounded like the splintering of glass pierced through the air, causing Riley to whip around in its direction. Some drinks were spilt on the floor in a puddle of brown and white, and shards of glass littered the surroundings. Rosaria stood before the mess, her hand clutching her stomach as she remained frozen in shock.

Maya was the first to reach her.

"What happened? Are you alright?" She asked, pressing a hand against the woman's back.

Rosaria glanced down at the floor beneath her, which Riley now noticed was covered in transparent fluid as well. She stammered, "I…I think my water just broke."

"Oh boy," Zay gulped.

Like him, the other customers in the diner continued to stare at the scene, not knowing what to do. It was Maya who immediately pounced into action, calmly instructing one of the waitresses hovering nearby to grab her a thick towel.

Riley clambered out of the cubicle and went over to them. "What are you going to do?" She whispered, watching as Maya took the towel from the waitress.

"I'm bringing her to the nearest hospital," she said, gesturing for her to hurry. "Quick, get me Zay's car keys."

"No," a voice spoke from behind them. It was Lucas, striding past Riley to come to a stop in front of Maya. "We're taking my car."

Maya frowned, tossing him an impatient look. "This isn't a good time, Lucas," she warned. "You're not coming with us."

Lucas sighed. "Now who's the one taking this personally, huh? And what sort of plan do you have in mind? Single-handedly _drag_ her over to the car and take care of her while _driving_?"

"I'll go with her, then," Riley said, stepping forward.

Lucas met the brunette's eyes with an equally defiant stare. "But you don't know these roads like I do."

This caused Riley to pause for a short moment. His intentions were sincere, but beneath that gallantry, was the soft plea of a forlorn cowboy hoping for her to give in.

Just then, Rosaria's knees buckled beneath her, which nearly crashed her to the floor if not for Maya's firm grip. The woman's face was contorted in pain, leading the blonde to conclude that her contractions had just started.

Focusing on the emergency at hand, Maya nodded towards Lucas. "Fine, let's go," she said. "Lead the way."

Riley raised a finger in protest, only to be silenced by her best friend.

"Get back to the hotel and make sure my mum doesn't find out about this," Maya said.

Although Riley had half the mind to go against her instructions and follow the two to the hospital, she knew that this was for the best. "Okay," she replied, folding her arms across her chest. Then, regarding Lucas, she said, "Please, drive safely."

The boy gave her his affirmation, and with that, she watched as the three left the diner – Rosaria walking between Maya and Lucas just in case she fell again. No one needed to hold her up, but she took small and careful steps to the exit, leaving a trail of amniotic fluid in her wake.

Around them, the soft murmurings of customers grew while others simply returned to their meals. The waitress who had passed Maya the towel re-emerged with a mop and slowly began the tedious process of scrubbing the wet puddles off the floor.

Riley returned to their table and sat at the edge of the bench, rubbing her temples in frustration. She could feel both boys' eyes on her as if they were waiting for her to say something. But what could she say that wasn't already blatantly obvious? The night had turned out to be a mess, and yet she didn't want to mention anything in fear of accidentally guilt-tripping Zay. He was probably taking it the hardest – his dream reunion was nothing like he had expected.

Slowly calming herself down, she raised her head to look at them, forcing a smile upon her lips.

"So," she started, "how about we do takeaways?"

* * *

The drive back to _Copperfield Farm_ was deafeningly quiet. The only sounds that could be heard as Zay steered the car was that of the wheels grinding against the uneven road. His unusual silence merely served to highlight his troubled thoughts, pushing Riley to say something – anything – that would cheer him up, but she couldn't find it in her to do so.

Farkle had been mostly quiet the entire evening as well, and this disposition continued on as he sat at the back of the car with their takeaways from _Bobby's Pizzeria._ He had offered to pay for the meal, but Zay insisted that he be the one. Perhaps realising that this was the boy's way of making up for the failed dinner, Farkle assented to it.

Soon enough, the car rolled up to the bed-and-breakfast and came to a stop in front of it. Most of the rooms' lights upstairs were turned on, and their yellow glow stretched out like a fan across the porch steps.

Farkle opened the door and stepped out of the car first, leaving Riley alone in the front seat with Zay. Unlike the rest of them, the Babineauxs lived near the farm, so there wasn't a need for him to have a room here.

"Zay, I…I'm so sorry about tonight," Riley apologised, not knowing what else to say.

The boy looked at her and shrugged. "It's on me," he said, trying to sound unaffected. "Things just don't turn out the way you hope sometimes."

He flashed her a reassuring grin – or at least, gave his best impression of one. "I'm alright, Riles. Really. You should eat up and have a good rest. Tomorrow's the big day."

It didn't take much for Riley to know that Zay was hiding his crushing disappointment, but she also knew that he didn't like people seeing him this way. The best thing she could do was to leave him alone to sort out his own feelings, and so that was what she did.

The girl bid him goodnight and exited the car, watching it drive away into the darkness.

"Are you coming?" Farkle's voice broke through the silence as he joined her on the driveway.

Riley turned around and saw him holding onto their takeaway. "Yeah," she answered, following him back up the porch steps and into the tiny lobby of the bed-and-breakfast.

There was a couch and a small coffee table situated near the reception counter, and she drifted towards it before sitting down.

"I think I'll just have my dinner here," she said. "Auggie's probably still with his cousins in the room and I don't want to disturb them yet."

Farkle gestured towards the empty space next to her. "Well, do you mind if I join you?"

"Oh, no. Please," Riley scooted over to the side to give him more room.

The boy settled down beside her and started to lay out their takeaway. He peered into one of the containers and proceeded to pass it over to her. "Spaghetti bolognese," he stated matter-a-factly.

"Carbonara with extra cheese?" Riley guessed in return. She hadn't really needed to ask to know that she was right.

Before either of them realised it, they had shared a little smile. This caused Riley to look swiftly away as she started digging into her dinner, faulting her slight deliriousness on the long and tiring day.

For awhile, neither of them said anything, and Riley was left to her own thoughts as she processed what happened at the diner. A trickle of dread crept upon her the more she envisioned possible scenarios of Maya and Lucas in the car together. It wasn't that there was something wrong with _him_ , but rather that there was something wrong with _them._ Either one of the two were bound to explode in a flurry of anger or sadness if they were left alone for too long.

She found herself nervously chewing the end of her plastic fork, the spaghetti having already been wiped clean in the blink of an eye.

"I should've gone with them," she said out of the blue.

Appearing somewhat surprised that the girl was talking to him, Farkle took a couple of seconds to respond.

"But she told you to come back here and you listened," he replied.

Riley laughed to herself. "Yes, and I shouldn't have. It's Maya and Lucas we're talking about here, and they haven't seen each other in _ages_. It'd be quite the achievement if their conversation comes anywhere close to ours."

She sank back against the sofa and sighed. "I highly doubt I'll be getting much sleep tonight till she gets back."

Farkle smirked. "Me too."

"Oh really?" Riley raised an eyebrow as she turned to look at him. She hadn't noticed it this afternoon, but his hair was much longer than it had been in the magazine spread she'd seen just the day before. Now, the top of his head was styled in smooth, tossled waves that caught the glint of the ceiling light that hung above them.

"Lucas is as much of a best friend to me as Maya is to you, Riley," he said seriously.

"I know."

Hearing him say her name felt like the most natural thing, and it took Riley some time to realise that it hadn't been uttered by him in three whole years. Almost like a reflex, she felt her heart quicken at the thought of getting comfortable with him again so soon. It was ironic considering the fact that this had been the whole reason why they fell out in the first place.

She hastily got up from the sofa and dusted off her jeans. "I better get going. Someone needs to let Josh know where Maya has gone."

If Farkle was even slightly disappointed, his expression didn't show it.

"Sure," he said, also getting up to his feet. He swiped their litter off the table before Riley could reach for it. "Don't worry, I got it."

"Thanks," the girl released a grateful smile. She headed for the carpeted staircase, pausing just before she started to make her way up. "Goodnight…Farkle," she said, his name rolling easily off her tongue.

"Goodnight," the boy replied, returning her smile as blue eyes met brown.

* * *

 _A/N: Ohmygod. And Chapter 8 is done! This is the longest chapter yet, and it was actually supposed to be even longer till I decided to leave the other scenes out for Chapter 9 because I felt it was starting to get a little too choppy. Anyhow, I hope this was an enjoyable read for you guys! We're starting to get into the thick of things - or at least, we're starting to get into the **start** of the thick of things. I actually had to google 'what happens when water breaks' to figure out the accuracies of Rosaria's little emergency, so I guess that was rather interesting. I'm excited to continue on with the next chapter and I hope you all are too :) As usual, I hope to hear from you so do leave a review, 'cause I really like reading your thoughts! Also, I'm grateful for all the support you've given me so far! Stay lovely, guys, and see you in the next one c:_


	9. Chapter 9

**9**

 **2023**

 **Texas**

Lucas dropped Maya and Rosaria off at the entrance of the hospital before driving away to find a parking spot. As the girl watched his car disappear around a bend, she noticed a large, unsightly decal promoting a car rental centre stuck to the back of its rear window.

She frowned, thinking back to the stained seat that they had just left behind. Even with the towel, it hadn't been enough to stop the gush of fluids from flooding the entire back row. Lucas was either going to have a ball of a time cleaning it up or have some serious explaining to do when he returned the car.

Leaving Rosaria's side for a short moment, Maya walked towards a line of wheelchairs just outside the building and pushed one over to her.

"Sit," she instructed. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm coping," Rosaria replied, letting out a sigh of relief as she sank down onto the chair. Her hair clung damply to the sides of her face, and although her breathing was starting to even out, it was obvious that she was still grappling with the pain.

Maya patted her shoulder encouragingly. "Good," she said, "because it'll only get worse."

Rosaria craned her neck to get a good look at Maya. Under the fluorescent lights, the woman's skin was a glazed olive, and a sprinkle of freckles added a finishing touch to her already-youthful appearance.

"Is that supposed to be funny?!" She quipped

"Depends if you're in the mood for joking around," Maya smiled as she quickly wheeled Rosaria into the hospital. "You look like the type."

Rosaria sat in silence for a second, as if contemplating the statement. "You know," she suddenly spoke, "you were pretty impressive back there. Everyone else was in shock – myself included – but you didn't seem affected by it at all."

Maya shrugged despite knowing that Rosaria wouldn't be able to see her. The whole situation was giving her a strong sense of déjà vu, and she found herself fighting an inner struggle to remind herself that this was different – that she was now just a stranger peering in from the outside.

There wasn't much activity on the first floor aside from a few idle patients and visitors. The heart of the hospital lay in the emergency centre, and Rosaria had kindly advised Lucas to alight them at the other end of the building where it would be less crowded.

As they approached the registration counter, a nurse slipped out from behind the booth and walked towards them, her black heels clicking against the tiled floor.

"Good evening," she greeted, her gaze bouncing back and forth between the two. "How may I assist you?"

"My water broke," Rosaria said, cutting straight to the chase.

The nurse nodded and started to lead the way, taking large, hurried steps towards the elevators. "I'll escort you up to the maternity ward where our doctor-on-duty will assess your situation," she informed. "Do you have an appointed obstetrician?"

"Yes, Dr. O'Neal."

The lift doors glided open before them as Maya pushed Rosaria in.

"Do you have anyone you'd like us to contact? The father? Your parents?" The nurse continued, as if ticking off a mental checklist in her head.

"I've already called my husband. He's on his way here."

Maya bit her lip upon hearing this, recalling what had happened in the car. Rosaria had indeed called her husband while they were rushing over to the hospital, but after hanging up, she had closed her eyes and held the phone to her chest.

"He won't be able to make it," she'd murmured, staring blankly ahead.

"Why? Where is he?" Maya asked softly. Knowing that Lucas was observing them through the rearview mirror, she had to consciously stop herself from glancing in his direction.

Rosaria lowered her phone onto the seat. The shadows on her face shifted endlessly as the car tore down the road, the streetlamps outside whizzing by in a blur.

"He's a construction builder working outside the state. I doubt he can grab a plane fast enough to get here."

In spite of this, a tiny smile still grew across her face. "But a part of me is glad that the first thing he'll see when he comes, is our child."

Those were the words that rang through Maya's head as she followed them up to the maternity ward. Outside the delivery rooms, relatives and friends sat waiting for their loved ones on the chairs provided, many of them donning expectant faces and smiles despite their tiredness.

She never realised it till now, but delivery wards were the only places in hospitals where joy resided, rather than death or sadness.

Well, at least most of the time.

The nurse stopped outside a room and regarded the blonde girl for a second before asking, "Are you her next-of-kin?"

Maya shook her head. "No."

"Well, then I'm afraid this is as far as you can go. Only the patient's partner or mother is allowed to enter the delivery room."

"Of course," Maya said, taking a step back away from the wheelchair.

Rosaria raised her head towards the girl and casted her a grateful smile. "Thank you for helping me," she said. Then, looking slightly perturbed, "Sorry, but I never got to catch your name."

"It's Maya," the girl said as she returned the smile.

"Thank you, Maya," Rosaria repeated once more, reaching out for her hand to give it a firm squeeze. Then nodding towards the nurse, she signalled that she was ready to go.

Maya stood outside the room as the door closed shut before her. She had to take a couple of deep breaths to steady herself before making her way to the waiting area. Everything felt so familiar that she could almost picture herself shuffling through the same door Rosaria had just entered – hand clutching her stomach, fear increasing with every heartbeat.

With the adrenaline gone, she had fallen to exhaustion.

Lucas hadn't said where he'd meet her, so she presumed that he would be coming up to the maternity ward as well. The girl sat herself down on one of the seats at the back of the lounge to wait for him. Above her, a small television was tuned to the 24-hours news channel, the newscaster's voice barely a mumble with the volume set so low.

Just then, her phone buzzed, vibrating against the other items in her bag. She fished it out and saw a photo of Josh on the caller ID. Throughout their entire time knowing each other, the two had never personally exchanged phone numbers. Maya being Riley's best friend and Josh being her much-beloved uncle, they just somehow always wound up having the other's number pre-installed in their phonebooks. In fact, Josh's contact name was still – somewhat endearingly – _Uncle Boing._

"Hey, Mr. Matthews," the girl answered the call, trying to sound less tired than she was feeling.

Josh's voice burst forth, laced with worry. "Where are you?!" He demanded.

"I'm at Austin County General Hospital."

There was a tiny pause at the end of the line, and she could imagine Josh pacing back and forth with Riley at his side.

"Stay put," he finally said. "I'm coming to get you."

Maya felt a wave of relief wash over her despite having already expected that. As much as she felt bad about it, she just wasn't looking forward to hitching a ride back with Lucas.

"I'm already waiting," she replied.

"Okay, well, take care. I'll see you in half an hour."

"Alright, bye."

It was at this moment that a shadow fell over her seat, and she looked up to see a cup of coffee outstretched before her. The hand holding it belonged to Lucas, towering above her in his usual button-down shirt and jeans.

"Just take it, will you?" he said, nudging the drink forward before she could decline.

Maya took it and cupped it in her hands, feeling the heat of the coffee spreading through her fingertips.

"Um, thanks."

Lucas took a step forward and slumped down on the chair beside her. "How's Rosaria?" He asked, turning to look at her.

It had been a long time since they sat so close to each other, and to Maya's distaste, she found herself squirming under his gaze.

"She's doing fine," she answered, refusing to meet his eyes. "She just entered the delivery room."

"That's good," Lucas nodded before falling silent. He struggled to find the words to speak. "You don't have to wait for her, you know. I'll drive you back to the farm to get some rest."

The girl glanced down at her drink before meeting his steely gaze. Ever since the first day they were properly introduced, she'd never gone one conversation without joking around or calling him names, but looking at him now, she didn't even know what to say.

"Josh is picking me up," she finally managed. "I'm sorry."

Before he could help it, a flicker of annoyance crossed Lucas' face. "Josh. Right," he said, nodding his head in the way of _'how could I have forgotten?'_

"You know, I've always been meaning to ask – was that the reason why you left me? Because of _him_?"

Maya's back shot up straight at the insinuation. "What? No. _No_ , of course not!" She burst out, frowning.

This was what she had been afraid of – to be put in a spot where she couldn't escape. She knew there had to be a reason why Lucas so readily insisted to ferry Rosaria to the hospital. He had good intentions, she was sure, but for the most part, it was so that he could finally catch her alone.

Lucas ran a hand through his hair, frustrated.

"Then why?" He asked, not bothering to hide his anger. Years of pent-up emotions flowed out of him. "What made you think you could just walk away from me like that? From _us_?"

The accumulation of the day's events weighed heavy in Maya's chest, and all of a sudden, she was finding it hard to breathe. "I –"

"You know what? Forget it," Lucas snapped. "You've never given me a proper answer, so why would this time be any different?"

Maya's hand shook uncontrollably, and she set it down on the seat, clenching it tightly. "I _did_ and I'm going to tell you this again: I just didn't have anymore feelings for you, and neither do I have any now. So please…just leave me be."

Lucas stared at her for a moment before forcefully tearing his gaze away from her.

"Fine, I'll go," he said, getting up to his feet. "Enjoy your damn coffee."

Without even a backward glance, the boy strode away and disappeared down the hallway, each of his footsteps echoing loudly in Maya's ears.

She brought her hand to her cheeks only to find that it was wet. Using her sleeve, she quickly dried the streaks of tears that stained her face before anyone could take notice. Her heart ached terribly, more than it had in years, and yet she couldn't bring herself to put the blame on him. This had been entirely of her own doing, and the consequences were now starting to catch up to her.

Lucas was just an angry, hurt man trying to suppress his emotions. And she? A scarred woman trying to put her past behind her. She should've known that it would never work out.

Maya studied the styrofoam cup still in her hands, contemplating if she should throw it away. But years of treasuring the things given to her stopped her from doing so, and she decidedly brought the drink to her lips, taking a small sip of it.

Almost immediately, the strong and bitter taste of espresso doppio hit her tastebuds, leaving her to grapple with this uncomfortable fact – that even till now, the boy had remembered her favourite drink.

* * *

 _A/N: Hi everybody! Hope you guys enjoyed part two of the chapter :) and sorry if this was too angsty, but it felt fitting that this be the only way they reacted towards each other. After all, out of the five characters, they're the ones who are most scarred and broken. Don't worry though, the wedding is going to be in the next chapter & I promise lots of sweet moments between (most) of the characters. Do leave a review and let me know what you think! Do you feel that Lucas' responses were justified? Have you guessed Maya's secret? (I think I've made it pretty obvious by now). Thanks for all the support so far! Till the next chapter c:_


	10. Chapter 10

**10**

 **Summer 2023**

 **Texas**

The crisp morning air was abuzz with excitement. Maya could feel it tingling across her skin as she added the finishing touches to her mother's make-up. On the other side, Riley slid a comb adorned with pearls into the woman's complicated hairdo, her tongue poking out in concentration as she did so.

"Almost there…and…done!" Maya exclaimed, pushing off the little stool that she had been sitting on.

Katy looked up and blinked at her with what could only be described as a pre-wedding glow. There was something different in the way she carried herself this morning – equal parts jittery yet assured. Her leg bobbed nervously up and down beneath her wedding dress, on which Maya placed a hand to stop it from shaking.

"Nervous?" She teased.

"You bet," Katy replied a beat too fast.

Topanga walked over to them from the window, rubbing her hands in anticipation. "The guests are starting to make their way to the barn," she informed. "Also, I think I saw someone fall into the mud."

Maya winced at the thought of a ruined dress or suit. She pulled Topanga over and gestured towards her mother. "So, what do you think?"

The woman silently appraised Katy – from Riley's elaborate take on her usual half-up, half-down hairstyle to her off-the-shoulder wedding dress.

"Well, I think you look amazing," Topanga said, scooping Katy's hands into her own and giving them a tight squeeze. "Today's going to be incredible!"

"Oh, I certainly hope so," Katy murmured, appearing somewhat flustered by the compliment.

Riley stepped out from behind her and slung an arm around Maya's shoulders. "With your daughter's wonderful planning, I assure you, it will."

Katy stood up from the bed, taking a few steps to the full-length mirror situated at the corner of the small room. Her eyes ran up and down the entire frame as she turned sideways and back in order to get a better view of herself.

"Thanks, girls," she breathed, unable to contain the smile that had spread across her face. Her gaze landed on Maya. "Especially _you_ , honey. This wouldn't have been possible without your help."

The girl felt a sudden swelling of love and pride in her chest. It had taken the two a long time to get to this point in their relationship, but what mattered most was that they both chose to stay. Katy deserved all the happiness in the world, and Shawn gave them exactly that. Now they were just making it official.

"I love you, mum," Maya blurted out, throwing her arms around Katy.

Such moments happened few and far between, and whenever they did, it never failed to catch the woman by surprise. But with each passing occurrence, she reacted less and less awkwardly, eventually culminating in this moment where she brought her hands up to stroke Maya's hair.

"Love you more, baby," she whispered, the words leaving her easily after years of practicing them under her breath.

Just then, the creak of an opening door interrupted their little moment, with Josh's head peering in through the small gap as he greeted the four ladies with a smile.

"Knock, knock," he said. "Can I borrow Maya for a sec?"

"Sure," Maya replied, patting down the front of her dress. "I'll be right back," she said to the others before following Josh out of the room.

Upon closing the door behind her, she stopped to raise a questioning eyebrow. "What's up?" She asked, finding herself getting distracted by the way his dress shirt and matching grey vest and pants fitted snugly on him.

Josh smirked, noticing this. "You know, with the way you're staring at me, I'd think you have the ability to see through my clothes."

"I like a guy who can clean up well," Maya said nonchalantly, reaching out to adjust his blue bow-tie. "Is this why you called me out here? To show-off your outfit?"

"That's hardly the reason," Josh scoffed. "The groom wants to see you before the ceremony begins."

Hands clasped behind his back, he started to walk her over to the room situated on the other end of the narrow hallway.

"About last night," he continued, "are you feeling better?"

Maya thought back to her heated encounter with Lucas. After returning from the hospital that night, she hadn't been able to fall asleep – partly due to the coffee he'd given her, but mostly because her mind was a swirling havoc from all the unwanted memories that resurfaced.

It was Josh who managed to put her at ease, offering to sing her one of her favourite songs from The Beatles. Although she couldn't pinpoint the exact moment that she fell asleep, she eventually did, the shadow of Josh's touch from where she had curled up against him, lingering still.

He must've been exhausted too, for he was still fast asleep when she woke up early this morning to begin preparations for the long day ahead. She had to carefully untangle herself from his arms before slipping out of the room, and with all the rush and madness over the last couple of hours, this was their first conversation all morning.

"Yeah, I am," Maya smiled. Even if the opposite were true, there just wasn't any time to fret over it.

She couldn't deny that Lucas' sudden outburst had shocked her a little, but he would be down amongst the crowd, and she, up at the wedding altar next to her favourite people in the world. No unwanted memory could touch her there, and nothing could stop her from enjoying this special day.

"Good," Josh nodded in response. He gestured towards her with a grin. "You look gorgeous, by the way."

Maya let out a tinkling laugh and dropped into a low curtsy just outside the room. "Why, thank you, Mr. Matthews," she said, mimicking the tone of a courtly young lady. "I must say, you're looking awfully dapper yourself."

"Mm, I suppose I'll be expecting a dance with you later this evening," Josh chuckled as he played along. Then, opening the door to the room, he broke character and directed her inside. "Catch you in a while," he said.

Maya stepped into the room and heard a soft click of the closing door. Probably figuring that Shawn would want some privacy, the boy had decided to go down to the first floor to help with the wedding reception.

The room was identical to the one Katy was in, from the positioning of the furniture right down to the little portrait of the barn hanging above the bed. Cory was seated on the edge of the mattress, conversing animatedly with Shawn. But upon seeing Maya enter the room, he clapped his hands together and stood up, flashing her a quick smile.

"Well, I guess this is my cue to leave," he announced, sharing a look with his best friend before exiting the room as well.

Shawn remained by the window that overlooked the bed-and-breakfast, staring out at the guests streaming towards the barn that they were in. He was all dressed-up and ready to go in his light grey suit, a small mint-green succulent and silvery brunia making up the boutonniere that added a spruce of colour to his look. While his hair was neatly combed back, his scruffy beard remained. However, now that Maya was older, her appreciation for men's facial hair had grown. In fact, this was probably the most elaborate getup she'd seen the man in, in her eight years of knowing him.

"You wanted to see me?" She asked, approaching him slowly.

"Maya, yes," he paused, turning around to face her. "I just…wanted to speak to you before everything started."

He nudged his head towards the hive of activity going on below. The rest were already downstairs, helping to usher friends and family to their seats. "I never thought that this day would actually come," he said.

Maya looked down at her feet. "Yeah, neither did I," she admitted. "I thought you and mum were just going to date forever. Not that marriage actually defines a relationship, but, you know."

Shawn gave her an empathetic smile. "I know."

The two fell silent, soaking in the weight of the moment, the utter incredulity of it. This was about to go down in history as the day that Shawn Hunter finally got married.

"Remember a few years ago when you were still a pesky little kid?" He suddenly asked, smiling at the memory that he had conjured up in his thoughts.

"Sorry, but you've got to be a bit more specific than that."

The man took a deep breath before continuing. "Remember that period of time when you kept calling me your father and I told you to stop?"

Maya's eyes lit up at the timely reminder. She'd completely forgotten about it. That had happened when she was in her first year of high school and Katy and Shawn had finally announced that they were dating. The thought of having a complete family excited her so much so that she tried to address him as her father a couple of times. But when she realized how much it bugged him, she reverted to calling him Shawn – just without the 'Uncle'.

"Oh," she grinned cheekily. "You mean this?"

The girl went straight up to Shawn and in an attempt to annoy him, started listing different variations for 'father' in his face, counting off her fingers as she did so.

"Dad, pops, pa, daddy, father –"

Before she could continue, Shawn abruptly cut her off and said, "–Child, kid, what else am I missing here…? Oh right. _Daughter_."

Maya blinked at him, surprised. As much of a father figure Shawn had been in the last eight years, never once had he referred to her as _that_. He was always uncomfortable with putting labels on things, especially with regard to relationships.

The man watched her in amusement as she grappled for the right words. "Are you…is this…are you really doing what I think you're doing?" She stuttered.

"All these years I didn't want you calling me your father because I knew how much meaning that word held for you," Shawn said, criss-crossing his arms against his chest. "I didn't want to attach another bad memory to it just in case I failed on my part. But then I realized that regardless of what I'm called – Shawn or Uncle or Dad – nothing's going to change how good or bad a person I already am."

He said all this while staring at the space between them, but his eyes drifted back up to meet Maya's, looking very serious.

"I can't promise that I'll be the best husband or father, but I'm going to try my damnedest to make you and Katy happy. So I guess what I mean to say is…thank you, Maya, for letting me into your life and allowing me to see you grow up into the wonderful lady that you are. I would be really, really glad to hear you call me your step-dad."

Maya stood still for a moment, trying to process what he'd just said. Tears had unwittingly begun to well up in her eyes, threatening to spill over onto her cheeks. Hearing those words leave Shawn's lips was like receiving a gift she never knew she wanted, and she found herself shaking her head slowly.

"No," she finally said. "Not step-dad. Just…dad."

She stood on her tiptoes and planted a quick kiss on his cheek. "Thank you for everything. It means a lot to us."

Shawn smiled in return. "Well, I'm glad we got that straightened out."

"Is there anything else you want to tell me before I head back?" Maya asked, starting to make her way towards the door with a newfound spring in her step.

"How's Katy?" The man asked quickly, as if the question had already been at the back of his mind the entire time.

Maya grinned knowingly. "She's feeling a little nervous. How about you?"

"Same."

"It'll be fine," she reassured him as she opened the door a crack. "I'll see you downstairs in ten, alright?"

And with a tiny flash of her coral pink dress, she was gone.

* * *

Copperfield barn was huge, bigger than necessary for the small, intimate gathering of fifty that had been invited to the wedding. Upon entering the place, guests were greeted by a small, rectangular table draped over with white cloth and flowers, while above them, a large crystal chandelier hung down from the ceiling – two storeys high.

Twinkling fairy lights wound around the tall wooden beams that supported the structure, casting a soft yellow glow around the barn.

The wedding altar itself was a simple wooden platform that rose a few inches above the ground, and surrounding it stood an arch made of intertwining branches decorated with flowers. Behind it, a towering glass window with black grilles brought in a curtain of light that illuminated every nook and cranny.

Foldable wooden chairs were arranged in two blocks before the altar with an aisle cut down the middle, as wax candles contained in large translucent holders lined each row with white rose petals scattering the ground.

All of this Farkle took in as he walked over to his assigned seat with Lucas. Most of the guests had already arrived by then, including Zay, who happily greeted them from where he was sitting.

"Mornin'," he said with a flash of his teeth. "Now ya'll are looking fine as heck."

Feeling like they shared some sort of solidarity after last night's events, Farkle smiled and replied in place of Lucas. "Thanks, you're not looking too shabby yourself."

Zay appeared somewhat proud. "Well, if there's anything my mother taught me, it's that as much as we Babineaux men love our jeans and shirts, we've got to own a good suit or two that can blow everyone's minds away."

"Well, it seems like your mother was right," Farkle said, sitting himself down next to Lucas at the edge closest to the aisle.

Zay grinned and turned to speak to an older woman occupying the seat next to him. Never having seen her before, Farkle leaned in towards Lucas and asked, "who is she? The one Zay's talking to."

"That's his mother," Lucas answered without giving them so much as a second glance.

Farkle was puzzled, and also slightly chagrined by the fact that even Zay's family was here and yet, both his parents had decided to turn their wedding invites down.

"How does Katy and Shawn even _know_ them?" He questioned, sounding more forceful than he'd intended it to be.

"Farkle," Lucas said slowly, "this whole farm belongs to them."

The boy settled back in his seat and faced the front. "Oh."

 _What more did he not know about his friends?_

At that moment, the sound of wedding chimes filled the air, bringing a hushed and anticipative silence over the guests. Where there wasn't anyone before, a wedding officiant now stood at the altar, while Shawn Hunter and Cory Matthews walked in from the side till the former was standing atop the raised platform.

From the back of the barn, Riley and Topanga started down the aisle as a pair. The latter managed to keep her lips pressed into a smile, but Riley just couldn't stop herself from beaming. She exuded a sense of excitement that even Farkle could feel when she passed him by, as if it were her own wedding day. Her strapless, periwinkle dress swept the floor as she walked, and her short brown hair had been styled into beach waves that ended at her collarbones.

Farkle didn't know what had overcome him when he sat with her at the lobby the night before, but perhaps it was his protective instincts from all their years of friendship that simply kicked in upon seeing her so disappointed and troubled.

Looking back on it, a part of him was glad that the silence they shared wasn't as much an awkward one as it was contemplative. It felt just like the good old days, where the two would sit at _Topanga's_ doing their homework, or spend time at each other's houses doing nothing particularly interesting except to soak up in the other's company.

Just then, Farkle's train of thought was broken by the live string quartet, which had started to play a slow rendition of _Canon in D_. Like everyone else, he turned to the back and watched as Maya and the bride made their descent down the stairs from the second floor – both their faces alight with smiles.

When Farkle was younger, he used to think that Maya looked the most beautiful when she smiled. Not the playful kind from whenever she teased her friends, but the genuine sort that made her cheeks rosier than they already were. He hadn't seen that smile in the longest time, but there it was, mirroring that of her mother's.

Next to him, Lucas seemed reluctant to look her way, but he eventually did, lips parting a little at the sight of Maya in her dress.

As mother and daughter strolled down the aisle, Shawn gazed at them both with teary eyes – the image of a man in love with his wife and family. Farkle couldn't help but think of his own parents. Were they like this on their wedding day? If the answer was yes, then something must've happened along the way.

The music came to a resounding stop as Katy joined Shawn at the altar and Maya slotted herself between Riley and the bride.

"Good morning, everybody, and welcome," the officiant began. "As you all know, we are gathered here today to celebrate one of life's greatest gifts – the union of two hearts as one. I invite you to leave behind the worries and concerns of everyday life, and join us in the celebration of Katy Hart and Shawn Hunter's marriage…"

* * *

The after-party was held in the evening, if only for the sole purpose for guests to enjoy eating and dancing under the starry Texan sky.

By the time everyone returned to the barn dressed in their casual attire, the place had been transformed into a spacious area with round dining tables and a large empty space left in the centre to serve as a dance floor.

Riley was just about to take a last bite of her tiramisu when Cory stood up and tapped a spoon against his half-filled wine glass. A loud _tink, tink, tink_ filled the air, silencing most of the chatter from the other tables.

"Hi, hello," the man cleared his throat as Topanga looked on with a smile. "Now that everyone's mostly done with dinner, I'd just like to take this opportunity to make a toast to the best person I know…and his wife, Katy."

With Shawn and Cory's friends making up most of the guests, a couple of chuckles and groans erupted across the large room.

Cory smiled and turned to face his friend sitting at the table near the front. He had stopped eating and was now watching him expectantly.

"Shawn," he started, "all I ever wanted was to go through life together with you. But after I got married, I didn't know that the thought of hanging around in New York made you feel more of an outsider than a friend – that every visit you paid me was a constant reminder of the family you didn't have. And I felt so helpless because there wasn't anything I could do about it. I wanted to tell you that _I_ was your family, that you'll always have a home with Topanga, Riley, Auggie and me. But of course, that could never be the same thing.

"So when you first met Maya, Topanga and I were thrilled. We thought it'd be good enough if you just decided to take the girl under your wing, but I guess Katy's charm reeled you in, too."

"First loves are always hard, and Angela," Cory spotted the woman at one of the tables and gestured towards her, "I'm glad that you're here and that we can all look back at the past now with fond memories. But things might have turned out differently had Katy not entered your life.

"What I'm saying is, thank you, Katy, for caring and loving my best friend the way you do. You gave him the family he's always wanted, and you've made him a happier man than he's ever been before. To my dearest Shawn, you and Katy make a wonderful couple, and together with Maya, you three are an even greater family. I guess I'll have to share you with more people now, but jokes aside, I'm really glad that you've finally found someone worth settling for. I wish the both of you happiness, for a lifetime and beyond."

Cory raised his glass of wine into the air. "To Shawn and Katy," he said.

"To Shawn and Katy," the guests echoed as they held up their drinks.

From afar, Riley saw Katy blow Cory a kiss while Shawn smiled and mouthed the words "Thank you."

She smiled to herself upon witnessing the little moment. She had always been one to enjoy weddings, sometimes even more so than the brides and grooms themselves. Celebrating love while being surrounded by family and friends made her feel warm and fuzzy on the inside.

Several minutes later, the next segment came to a start with the newlywed's first dance. They swayed along to Ray LaMontagne's _You Are the Best Thing,_ and before Riley knew it, the dance floor was rife with couples and families moving to the music.

She had a couple of whirls with her dad and Shawn before deciding to take a little break beside the snack bar, watching as the guests danced to the music that bounced back and forth between slow-tempo waltzes and upbeat songs. Sipping on some fruit punch, her eyes swept the barn as she tried to spot her friends and family weaving through the crowd.

There was Katy and Shawn, still stuck in their own world, and her parents, conversing at the side lines with Angela and her husband. Their daughter, around the age of 6, hid shyly behind her mother's back. Riley tried waving at the girl in an attempt to warm up to her, but that just made her all the more bashful.

Then of course, there was Maya and Josh, who were playfully dancing their way towards her with laughter bubbling up their throats.

"Riles! Why aren't you dancing?" The girl asked, hands on her hips.

"I'm just resting for a little while," Riley said, waving the cup of fruit punch in front of her. "Would you like some?"

"Yes please," Maya replied gleefully as she plucked the drink from her hands.

Before Riley realized what was happening, the cup was quickly handed to Josh, who took off running with it.

"Maya!" The brunette exclaimed.

"Rest time's over," Maya smiled. "There's only one other person in this room who isn't dancing or talking and I'm not going let him get away with it. So you're going to make him join in the fun."

Riley followed her friend's gaze to the man sitting idly by himself at one of the tables. It was Farkle, who appeared to be calmly observing the crowd. She had seen him next to Lucas and Zay at the wedding ceremony that morning, wearing an expensive grey tuxedo and looking as if he came straight out of the magazine article she saw him in just two nights ago. However, he'd appropriately ditched the jacket for the after party and was now merely in his dress shirt, tie and pants.

She was about to refuse Maya when she remembered the promise that she made to herself, which was to stop running away – from him, in particular. Although they had talked for a bit at the bed and breakfast the night before, that could hardly amount to much, especially when it wasn't even initiated by her.

There was a slight pause before Riley gave in. "Okay, fine," she said, much to Maya's satisfaction. "Just…don't hate me if it doesn't work out."

"Of course I won't, sweetie," Maya grinned, giving her cheek a gentle pat. "Enjoy."

Riley smoothened the front of her floral-patterned slip dress and walked up to Farkle, who raised his head upon hearing her approach. Neither said a word as she took a seat beside him, but in a flurry of nervousness, both of them proceeded to greet each other at the exact same time.

"Hey." "Hi."

Riley winced inwardly. "So, um…how are you enjoying the party so far?"

"It's great." Farkle nodded. "Katy and Shawn look really happy. It's nice seeing them again after so long."

"Yeah," Riley smiled, racking her brains for other things to say. She was normally great at small talk, just not with him. Their friendship consisted of occasional intellectual debates and deep conversations, not questions about the weather.

This just wasn't going to cut it.

"You know what," she said, getting up from her seat. "My feet are _itching_ to dance. Will you dance with me, Farkle?"

The boy stared at her in confusion. "Sorry?" He gaped.

"Would. You. Like. To. Dance. With. Me. Farkle?" Riley repeated, extending a hand out towards him. She wasn't sure what she was planning to get out of this – much less if Farkle would even agree to it – but these days, she found that her actions were being led more by instinct rather than reason.

Farkle took a moment to process her invitation, appearing somewhat hesitant. But then he surprised her when he stood up and took a hold of her hand, his fingers intertwining around hers.

"Sure," he replied, casting the girl a smile.

The previously fast-paced number had given way to an Otis Redding song, and this Riley knew because her parents enjoyed blasting a good oldie around the house every now and then. The singer's raspy voice rocked the couples on the dance floor like a lullaby, slowing them down to a gentle sway.

Having had experience during their time in high school and university, the two were well-versed with its physical workings. Farkle placed his hand firmly on Riley's hip while she rested hers on his shoulder. However, they opted to stand a good foot apart from each other, their lack of interaction over the last couple of years leaving them less comfortable in such close proximity.

Farkle then gave Riley a look, which she somehow knew was his way of asking if she was okay, and she nodded, allowing him to lead them into the dance.

They started out a little awkwardly at first, with Riley accidentally tripping over his feet, but when she laughed it off, she managed to ease a bit of the tension that lay between the two. As the song continued, they moved back and forth along with the rhythm, unintentionally pulling each other closer till their bodies were nearly touching.

Riley had never realized how tall the boy was till now, with her ear solidly pressed against his chest. She couldn't distinguish between the beat of the song and his own pulse, but she closed her eyes all the same, inhaling the scent of his cologne.

"I think the old Farkle would have killed to be in this position," Farkle suddenly spoke up. His voice sounded so different when close to her.

Still resting against him, Riley smiled at the thought of it. "How about the Farkle now?" She asked, genuinely curious to hear what he had to say.

"He's too busy worrying about where Lucas has gone."

Riley snapped her head up, uncertain if he was joking or not. He looked back down at her with a playful smirk, but she still wasn't sure what that meant.

"Where _is_ the guy, anyway?"

Farkle shrugged. "With some girl, probably," he answered, sounding like he was pretty used to Lucas' constant acts of disappearance.

"Well, I hope he uses protection," Riley muttered.

" _What?_ "

"N-Nothing!"

The pair fell back into silence as the song continued to play in the background.

 _I'll be the rainbow after the tears are gone, wrap you in my colours and keep you warm._

Slow dances always made Riley feel for her partner on a deeper level – be it with a parent, a lover or a friend. And this time, the one emotion that started to stray itself from the rest was that of guilt, of apologies yet to be said and accepted.

There was just something so powerful about touch. It didn't have to be romantic in any way, but still, it triggered a sense of intimacy that made one feel safer in vulnerability than usual. It was this very feeling that coaxed Riley gently out of the fear that had been eating at her the last couple of days.

 _I'll be the ocean so deep and wide, and catch all the tears whenever you cry._

"Farkle?" She whispered, raising her head to look him in the eyes. "I'm so sorry."

The boy frowned as his expression turned to one of puzzlement. "Why did you say that for?" He asked gently.

"For Smackle, for ignoring you, for everything I did that made you hurt."

Farkle's expression softened. "Riley," he started, "there's no need for you to apologize–"

"–But I want to," the girl quickly cut him off. "Please?"

 _I'll be the breeze after the storm is gone, to dry your eyes and love you all warm._

Farkle's grip on her waist loosened, only to grow tight again. He must have seen the desperation in her eyes, for after a short pause, he finally said the one word that made her feel as if a large burden had been lifted off her chest:

"Okay."

And with that, Riley smiled gratefully.

"Thank you."

* * *

Science concludes that everything on this earth is impermanent, that everything is in a constant state of flux. Applied with different variations of heat, most elements change in terms of matter, and in space, even the biggest and brightest stars collapse upon themselves after billions of years.

This all made sense to Farkle. And love? Love was hardly any different. But in spite of everything he knew, things were always uncertain around the Matthews, and now, even the Harts.

By the end of the night, the boy found a part of himself wishing for life to surprise him – to prove everything that he'd always been sure of, wrong.

* * *

 _A/N: Hey guys! Apologies for taking so long to update. I've been pretty busy lately, and this turned out to be a longer chapter than I thought it would be. Hopefully this made up for lost time c: Anyway, I'm currently feeling so overwhelmed by the love you precious readers have been giving this fic lately! Reading your reviews never fail to make me happy and give me the spur of motivation I need to finish the chapter! (It was especially helpful this time around, because I was actually quite dissatisfied with what I'd written at first and hence, decided to rewrite it). Also, in response to **AngelGirl** 's question, the title of this fic is actually based off the song, _I Was Made for Loving You _by Tori Kelly and Ed Sheeran - so give it a listen, if you will! It's a great song :) I wanted this chapter to be a little more light-hearted after the previous ones, so I hope you found the moments Maya shared with Katy and Shawn, sweet. Just my take on their respective relationships! And not to mention, we had a bit more Riarkle in this chapter too. Here I addressed Riley's guilt for what she did to Farkle all those years ago, and I think what she's really seeking here is forgiveness. But of course, more remains to it than the eye can see. Okay, I'll end my rambling here. Kudos to you if you made it to this point?! This was a very long chapter indeed :') Once again, thank you for the support! Let me know what you think by leaving a review and I will see you in the next one c:_


	11. Chapter 11

**11**

 **Summer 2020**

 **New York | Massachusetts**

Smackle folded her last article of clothing and placed it inside her luggage, zipping it shut with a satisfied smile. After what seemed like forever, she would be in Massachusetts with Farkle within a couple of hours.

Summer was already coming to an end and classes at Yale were starting soon, so this would be her last chance to spend some time with him before life caught up again. Despite the trip only taking place over the weekend, she still found herself looking forward to it.

Interacting with Farkle through a computer screen had felt considerably different. And while she still struggled with skin ship from time to time, the absence of his little kisses and touches over the past weeks had strangely left her yearning for them.

The girl hoisted her luggage and wheeled it out into the lift that served her family's three-storey penthouse. With it entirely made out of glass, she could see the respective floors whizz by in a greyish blur, a preview of the house's monochromatic interior.

Slowly, the lift came to a stop on the first level, its doors sliding open to let her through. From where she stood, she could hear the faint murmurs of the television playing in the background. It took her a second before she realized how out of place this was, especially in a house that was usually sterile and silent. Her heart started to pound a little faster as the one thought loomed over her head – her parents were _home._

Smackle frantically scoured her brain for any special occasion that she might have forgotten, but wasn't able to come up with anything. Her parents had seemingly strayed from their stringent routine for reasons that she neither knew nor wanted to find out about.

As she started to approach them cautiously, she ran through a list of alternate exits in her head. However, the only way out was to go past the living room, right where they were planted.

"Hey mum, hey dad," the girl greeted nervously, stopping just a couple feet away from the sofa.

 _Calm down, Isadora,_ she told herself.

It wasn't like she hadn't done this before. In fact, she'd lied to her parents plenty of times over the last four years in high school, coming up with excuses about extra classes or study sessions when really, she was just hanging out with Farkle and his friends. She'd even told them about this trip, citing it as a pre-orientation tour of the school campus. Her parents gobbled it up like they did everything else. As long as it bid well for their daughter's future, nothing was in question.

"Isadora," her mother said, beckoning the girl forward. "Where do you think you're going?"

Smackle could identify the woman's lethal calm from anywhere, and it meant bad news rather than good. She gripped the handle of her luggage tightly as she tried to draw support from its solidity.

"New Haven," she answered. "I have a pre-orientation camp, remember?"

Her father leaned forward, studying her with piercing eyes. "But you don't need a plane ticket to get there, do you? Driving there is faster than flying."

It was evident that he was trying to control his temper. The only thing that was keeping him from yelling through the roof was his wife, who handled the problems at work and home with an icy grip. Still, Smackle would rather face his immediate wrath than endure the prolonged cold of her mother.

"There's no point in hiding the truth from us, Isadora," her mother continued, putting a steady hand over her husband's. "We've traced your ticket to Massachusetts, and we know who you're going to visit."

Farkle's name didn't have to be mentioned for it to ring through Smackle's head loud and clear. The girl found herself at a loss. It had been years. She'd gotten away with this for _years_. So why now?

"You've been playing us this whole time," her mother shook her head in disappointment. "You didn't ask to be sent to _Abigail Adams_ just so you could increase your competitive streak. You did it because Farkle and his friends were there, and you wanted so desperately to be a part of them."

She said this with so much venom, and it made Smackle sound so… _weak_.

"But I still did well," the girl found herself protesting.

"Not as well as you would've if you hadn't been distracted."

"I got a scholarship to _Yale_."

"So did Farkle, and he was the valedictorian!" The woman snapped, her voice rising by a decibel.

 _He deserved it,_ Smackle wanted to say, but she managed to bite her tongue back lest she worsened the situation.

Her mother composed herself before pressing her lips into a thin smile. "We're going to need your whole-hearted support if our company is to become as successful as theirs, and we're almost there, Isadora. We just need _you_ to give it the final push _._ "

Smackle dropped her gaze to the floor. This was what she had been her entire life – a pawn used to increase power; a robot made to study her life away till she was deemed worthy enough by her parents.

 _Smackle Corporations_ had grown considerably since her days in elementary school, enough even, to make millionaires out of her parents. But they still weren't satisfied. She just wished she didn't enjoy the process of learning so much – it made it that much harder to displease them.

However, she knew that she wouldn't have been able to keep her relationship with Farkle a secret forever. She only hoped that the peace could have lasted a little longer before the truth came to light. And she always believed that it would happen of her own accord instead of being caught red-handed while she was on her way to meet him.

She had been silent up to this point, stubbornly refusing to acknowledge that her mother was right.

"We won't stop you from going," the woman said gently upon seeing the strained look on her daughter's face. "You know we aren't those kind of parents. But," she lifted her steely gaze to meet hers, "I'm certain you'll do the right thing, Isadora."

Smackle immediately averted her eyes. A thousand things were running through her mind – thoughts that she was usually able to pick out and isolate. The one that stood out the most was that she had to leave. Her parents' presence was stifling, while Farkle and his friends were like a breath of fresh air – a chance for her to clear her head.

She took a few steps towards the front door. "If there's nothing else, I'll be on my way," she said quickly just in case her parents decided to change their minds.

All her mother did was to release a small smile, one without any sense of comfort in it. "Have a safe flight, dear," she said.

"I will," Smackle nodded curtly before turning her back on her parents, feeling the weight of their eyes bore into her spine.

* * *

The plane ride to Massachusetts was anything but relaxing. As someone who took a logical and methodical approach to everything, Smackle just couldn't understand how her parents managed to find out about Farkle. They'd always known that he played a huge role in her life, but as an enemy and a competitor, not someone she held hands with.

Perhaps she'd been playing the game for so long that she unwittingly grew comfortable in it – so comfortable, in fact, that she let her own guard down. This made her feel slightly embarrassed, for she had always prided herself on her cunning and intelligence. Growing up, she was taught to constantly push her boundaries and challenge herself with new things, fulfilling the old adage that the most precious diamonds are formed under the harshest pressure. To find a sense of comfort and protection was to grow weaker, and that was exactly what happened.

Smackle spent the flight fretting over her next course of action, and in her inner conflict, found two opposing sides slowly come into form. The reason why she had yearned to join Riley and her group of friends was because she wanted to have people care about her, and in turn, understand how it was like to have people to care about. She learnt more about life and love and friendship throughout her four years in high school than she did in the fourteen years before.

The secret of life was that people changed people, and was she a changed girl? Certainly. But her parents were still the same ones who had brought her up to be the ruthless, proud and un-empathising girl she had been. It was proving difficult to reconcile the two.

However, by the time Smackle left the plane and headed towards the arrival hall to meet Farkle, her mind had already been made up.

Efficiency was her speciality, whether she had changed or not.

* * *

The moment Smackle strolled out through the sliding glass doors, she spotted Farkle waiting by a pillar with a bouquet of flowers in his hands. Despite wearing a simple polo shirt and jeans, his slightly pinkish skin caused him to stick out of the crowd like a sore thumb.

"Hey there," he said upon catching sight of her, walking forward to dispense the girl of her luggage.

He gave her a quick kiss on the forehead, to which she closed her eyes as he did so, relishing in the short moment before his lips were gone and only an imprint of its warmth was left.

"Hi," she answered, her eyes running up and down his sunburnt skin. She playfully prodded his arm, causing him to wince.

"Looks like someone's been living an active lifestyle," she teased.

"This," Farkle gestured towards himself, "is just another reason why Minkuses aren't meant to do sports. Why can't I tan like Lucas?"

"Because you're a scientist, not a sports star," Smackle said as she hooked her arm around his. "Anyway, what's that you've got there?"

The boy's eyes widened, as if he'd forgotten that he was holding onto something. "Right," he laughed, lifting the bouquet up to her. "I know you aren't fond of this stuff, but I just wanted to give you something as a token of my appreciation for being so patient these last couple of weeks."

Smackle snatched the flowers from his hands and gave them a big, long whiff. "Roses," she stated with a smile. "I love them. Thank you, dearest."

Farkle gave her a puzzled look, unsure of how to react to her strange response. In the end, he decided to just brush it off and gave himself a mental pat on the back for thinking of the sweet gesture.

"So," he continued, walking her to the car, "I was thinking that we could go grab some lunch before I show you around the campus?"

The girl flashed him a smile. "That sounds lovely," she said.

Farkle raised an eyebrow upon hearing this, surprised by Smackle's unusual acceptance of his plans. She'd often prepared her own list of activities for their dates, and if not, never failed to have additional inputs on his arrangements. Very rarely did she simply accede to his suggestions. In fact, this might have been a first.

"Hey, is everything alright?" He asked, stopping in his tracks. "Or did something happen while I was away?"

Smackle's head jolted up in alarm. "Of course not!" She scoffed. "Everything's fine. I guess I just…missed you."

Farkle's features relaxed as he took a hold of her hand. Whatever suspicions he seemed to have, had been wiped clean away. "Well, I missed having you around too," he said, pulling her closer to him. "That's why we're going to have this weekend all to ourselves."

The girl shot him a curious look. "Does that mean no Lucas?"

"Well, now that you mention it…he _might_ be joining us for lunch," Farkle admitted, letting out a bashful grin.

As a reflex, Smackle was about to jab him in the side with her elbow when she stopped herself. Whether or not it was because of Farkle's sunburn or the decision that she'd made on the plane, she didn't know.

All she knew was that she planned on fully immersing herself in the present for the next few hours. Then, it would be time to let go.

* * *

Smackle and Farkle spent the entire day touring the Harvard campus, visiting the places he would soon begin lessons at and meeting the friends he had made during orientation. Despite having already rented an apartment close to his school, he also went about showing her around the dormitories.

As she walked through the school grounds, she realized that she wasn't as taken away or overwhelmed by the sheer opportunities presented to satiate her intellectual curiosity. Maybe it was because Yale provided her with the same stimulating environment, or maybe it was the thought of never being able to share classes with Farkle again that diluted her excitement.

After all, the two had been a recipe for success in high school, pushing each other to achieve greater heights. And when it came down to the two of them for the title of valedictorian, she knew that Farkle deserved it most, as much as she wanted it for herself.

If she had been anywhere else, earning the honour would have come easy, but at what cost? A less-developed emotional intelligence, which would be severely compounded by her Asperger's. Furthermore, she'd miss out on four years of incredible lessons and adventures.

When Farkle and her stopped fighting to gain the upper hand, they started to view each other as equals, and that gave her more satisfaction than her grades ever did.

Now, they had left the campus and were on their way to dinner at a French restaurant that Farkle had made reservations at. She could hear her luggage bouncing up and down in the empty boot of the car, taunting her constantly of her decision.

"I was looking up on the various research programmes that the school offers, but none of them really seem to interest me," the boy said as he kept his eyes trained on the road before him.

"What are you interested in, then?" Smackle asked, turning to look at him. She traced his side profile with her eyes, taking in every last bit of his relaxed features.

Farkle's eyes twinkled, flickering to meet hers for a second. "I want to create something – a time machine…or artificial intelligence unlike anyone's seen before."

"A Jarvis!" Smackle exclaimed as she snapped her fingers.

"Probably even better than that," Farkle grinned, turning the steering wheel to the right as he pulled into the open-air carpark. "Then you'd be the Pepper Potts to my Tony Stark."

The girl let out a sad smile, knowing that there was no chance of that ever happening. At least for now. She turned to look at Farkle, who after parking the car, had unbuckled his seatbelt and was about to kill the engines when she placed a hand on his arm to stop him.

"What?" He asked, his gentle tone laced with amusement.

Smackle inhaled deeply and felt her breath shake at the weight of her words. They stabbed at her like tiny daggers, digging further into her ribs the more she thought about how she should break the news to him.

She withdrew her hand and looked him squarely in the eyes. "I think we should break up."

Straightforward and to the point – always her style. Pointless beating around the bush just made such moments so much harder to bear. It was easier and less painful to get right around to it.

Farkle's eyebrows knitted together in a tight frown, his eyes breaking away from hers as he struggled to make sense of what she'd said. His mouth opened and closed before he shook his head and said, "I don't understand."

"My parents found out about us, and they're not too pleased about it," Smackle explained.

She watched as a hint of realisation flickered across the boy's face. However, he remained silent, as if deep in thought.

"I'm sorry," Smackle continued, trying to find the right words to justify the reason behind her actions. "It's just that…given the current circumstances, with me going to Yale and you, _here_ …it'd be difficult to go on, especially now that my parents know the truth. It's impossible to convince them otherwise."

Farkle finally looked up to meet her eyes, nodding slowly. "I get it," he mumbled.

"It doesn't mean I love you any less."

"I know."

"You're the best thing that has ever happened to me."

"I _know._ "

Smackle bit down on her bottom lip, feeling it tremble beneath her teeth. "Say something, then."

Farkle stared at her with a pained look in his eyes, suddenly reaching out to pull her into a tight embrace. She rested her chin on his shoulder, blinking against the strands of hair that had spilled across her face. Slowly, she brought her arms up and wrapped them around him, wrestling with the memories that came flooding back to her – memories of the first time they hugged at Riley's bay window, the first time they held hands outside _Topanga's_ …the first time they ever shared a kiss.

"I love you, Isadora," he whispered.

Smackle felt herself smile in response. It was nice hearing those three syllables leave his lips. Sometimes she'd forget if he truly loved her too, and then moments like this would remind her again that he did.

He did, but certainly not as much as she loved _him_. And she knew that he knew it as well.

She pulled away slowly, only to lean forward to kiss him. He was slightly taken aback by this, but immediately regained his senses and pressed against her lips with as much fervour. And when the two finally broke apart, they both stayed quiet for a moment.

"So where do we go from here?" Farkle finally asked, his face illuminated only by the surrounding street lamps.

Smackle glanced at the twinkling lights of the French restaurant further down the street. "I'd stay for dinner," she said, "but I've got a flight to catch at ten."

"Unbelievable," the boy breathed, shaking his head as he broke into a knowing smile. "You had this all planned out, didn't you? And to think I actually believed that you were acting all weird when you agreed to my suggestion this morning."

"You know me," Smackle patted her chest proudly. Her sadness had diminished by a considerable amount upon seeing him smile. "I love having the last say."

Farkle put his seatbelt on and grabbed the steering wheel. "Where to, then, miss?"

Smackle closed her eyes. "The airport."

* * *

Soon, they were back where they had started the day, except this time, they were bidding each other goodbye.

Farkle stopped his car at the drop-off point and got out to help Smackle retrieve her luggage from the trunk. It was heavy, filled to the brim with clothes that were surely meant for three days instead of one. The girl must have made the decision at the last minute, and it pained him a little to know that their weekend had been just shy of actually occurring.

The door to the passenger seat opened and slammed shut, with Smackle going over to his side to take her belongings from him. She squared her shoulders and cleared her throat as she stood there regarding him for a moment. Something about the whole thing felt final, and yet somehow, he didn't feel as crushed by it as he should be.

Of course he was upset – it felt like a part of him was leaving. But in spite of this, he also knew that things could have turned out much worse than they did. This was the best possible scenario there could have been, with them here, five years later, separating on good terms as partners in science – _equals._

They had known that her parents would eventually find out about them, and deep down inside, Farkle had a hunch that it would end with them going on their respective ways. Asperger's aside, Smackle and him were much alike in intelligence and ambition. They both had big plans ahead of them, none of which included the other. Understanding this made the situation easier to grasp and swallow.

"So," Smackle began, her eyes crinkling into little crescents behind her glasses. "Thanks for helping me get into Yale."

She meant this as a joke, but they both knew that there was a certain truth behind her words.

"And thank _you_ for getting me into Harvard," Farkle said as he returned the smile. "We're still friends, right?"

Smackle gave him a soft nudge. "Hey, I wouldn't have it any other way."

She paused for a short second before turning around to head for the entrance, throwing her hand up in a backward wave.

The boy leant against the car and crossed his arms, watching as she walked further away from him. It was only after she disappeared behind the sliding doors that he realized she'd left her bouquet of flowers in the car. He rushed over to fetch it, but as he picked it up, noticed a white note stuck to it with a message scribbled in her neat handwriting:

 _Save this for someone better._

All at once, it was like someone had flipped a switch to the flood of emotions that started to crash over him – wave after wave after wave. Smackle had left believing that she was the problem, but she was wrong. It was Farkle who didn't deserve her. She was the one who had to find someone better – not him.

The boy punched the steering wheel, the shrill sound of the car horn echoing through the air in a flash of intense anger.

He'd let her leave before she learnt to love herself. _He'd let her leave,_ but there was no time machine yet built, and no chance of unwinding the clock.

* * *

 _A/N: Hey guys! Sorry for taking such a long time to update. I was on holiday in Japan over the past one week and I didn't bring a laptop with me, so hopefully this chapter makes up for it? c: I'll be switching back and forth between the past and present fairly often as you might have already realized, so this sheds a little insight on Smackle's background as well as how and why they broke up. Also, if their relationship seems to have some parallels to the recent GMPR episode (especially with regards to how they use each other to level-up), it was completely unintentional! I already had three-quarters of the chapter written before it aired and was pleasantly surprised to see some of my characterizations become canon. Heh. That aside, Smackle and her parents will continue to play a role in the coming chapters head. Not! To! Forget! I'm grateful for all the support you guys have been giving this fic! I pretty much have the entire story mapped out, so now it's just a matter of putting it into words :) Just you wait, because everything will fall into place with time! Once again, leave a review if you enjoyed the chapter or if you have anything you'd like to say. And here's little tease of what's coming up next - Smackle asks to meet Riley for brunch. Till then, have a great week ahead guys! :')_


	12. Chapter 12

**12**

 **Summer 2020**

 **New York**

Riley was nestled by the bay window, light from the morning sun illuminating the pages of the book that lay in her lap. She had embarked on an ambitious plan at the start of the holidays to complete her long read-list, and the current book she was sinking her teeth into was _The Raven Boys._

Just as she was about to flip to the next page, her phone vibrated out of the blue with a text notification. She picked it up, surprised to see Smackle's name along with the following message:

 **Are you free to meet for brunch?**

Riley and Maya last saw her a week ago, it being just the three of them after Zay returned to Texas. Even with the boys living in separate states, the six of them still kept to their promise to skype as a group every once a week – a promise which none of them had broken just yet.

After so much time had passed, one would expect Riley to have forgotten about the little incident with Farkle, or at least, shoved it under the rug to be forgotten. However, it still remained freshly imprinted in her mind, floating up to hound at her any time she thought of Smackle or him. Hiding behind a screen just made her guilt much easier to hide, where Farkle's presence didn't linger so close in real-life.

Riley set the book down beside her and slid off the seat as she contemplated the possible reason behind Smackle's invite. There was always a tingling paranoia that she might have found out about what happened between them, though what were the odds? Riley had been the only witness, and she kept mum about the entire thing. She even withheld it from Maya, the one person who knew every last detail about her.

"FINE," the girl huffed to herself as she pushed her fears aside.

She looked back down at her phone and texted back:

 **Sure! Topanga's at 11?**

Within a couple of seconds, Smackle replied with an affirmative, setting Riley off to change out of her pyjamas before trudging out into the living room.

Her parents were sitting across the dining table from each other – Cory marking homework for summer school and Topanga, buried in court documents for her upcoming case. Auggie was nowhere to be found, probably off playing soccer with Ava and his friends.

Seeing Riley enter the room, Cory raised his head from the stack of papers in front of him and smiled. "Morning, honey," he greeted. "Where are you off to? I thought you said that this was your 'free day'."

"It is. I'm just going to meet Smackle for lunch," Riley said as she bent down to kiss him on the cheek. "I'll see you later. You too, mummy."

Topanga glanced up at her daughter for a brief second before returning to her work. "Tell Katy I said hi!"

"Will do," Riley gave them a little wave as she made her way towards the front door.

The café was just a couple minutes away from their apartment, and by the time Riley had arrived, there were still a good fifteen minutes to go before the clock struck eleven.

However, upon descending the ivy-wrought staircase, she noticed Smackle already waiting at one of the tables, sipping on a cup of tea as she stared blankly at the brick wall across from her. It didn't take much for Riley to notice the downward slope of the girl's shoulders where they were usually upright and confident, or the air of heaviness that seemed to be surrounding her that morning.

A sense of foreboding started to fill Riley as she hesitated on the steps for a brief moment, wondering if she should have just declined and stayed at home. However, she managed to muster enough courage to approach the girl, reminding herself to treat this like any ordinary meal with Maya.

Except of course, there was no Maya.

"You made it before me," Riley commented as she sat on the chair opposite Smackle.

The girl blinked up at her before giving a little shrug. "I was already on my way when I sent you the text."

This made Riley grin. "Now why am I not surprised?"

Smackle responded by pushing a cup of coffee and a chocolate croissant across the table, gesturing for her to take them. "I took the liberty of ordering your food for you," she said. "As a gesture of thanks for coming on such short notice."

"Hmm, you certainly know me very well," Riley laughed. "Croissants and coffee are my go-to breakfast."

"Farkle orders this for you all the time," Smackle replied, fingers clasping around her own drink. "It wasn't very hard to remember."

The brunette's smile froze, suddenly unsure of where their conversation was heading towards. Something at the back of the mind screamed that Smackle knew, while her sensible side attempted to reason that there was no way she could have found out about it.

 _Unless…_

"Wait a second," Riley frowned. "Aren't you supposed to be in Massachusetts with Farkle? What are you still doing here?"

And just like that, Smackle's face fell as she dropped her stoic front.

"I didn't know who else I could talk to about this," she said quietly. "When I got home last night, my parents congratulated me for making the right decision. But that's not what I need to hear right now."

Riley watched the girl, confused as to what she was trying to get at. The only thing that indicated that this was something much larger than her own worries was the sheer look of sadness and disappointment painted across Smackle's face.

She leaned forward to touch her arm. "What happened, Isadora?"

Smackle's gaze fell on Riley's hand, her chest rising shakily as she took a deep breath. "My parents found out about Farkle and me, and…"

"…They told you to break up with him," Riley completed the sentence, eyes widening at the horrible realisation.

The girl nodded. "And that's what I did, the only consolation being that it wouldn't have worked out in the long run, anyway."

Riley felt a rush of indignation course through her veins. The day Farkle and Lucas left for Massachusetts, she had promised herself that she would prevent their relationship from meeting this very end. And even though the reason behind it ultimately had nothing to do with her kiss with Farkle, she still owed it to them to try and keep things as they were.

"Isadora, out of all the relationships our group has had, you two have lasted the longest. You guys are the _strongest_ besides Maya and Lucas! Surely that has to mean something," Riley reasoned.

Smackle regarded her for a moment. "Are you saying I shouldn't have broken up with him?"

"I'm saying that love like this is difficult to come by and that…you shouldn't let it go so easily."

There was a long bout of silence between the two as Smackle considered Riley's words. Somehow, they seemed more personal to the latter than they should be, as if she were speaking from her own experience.

"I'm not sure why," Smackle's gaze flitted down to her hands, "but last night, I almost expected for Farkle to call me, to say he'd thought twice about it and that he decided he was going to stick by me no matter what. But he didn't, and I guess I shouldn't have expected that from him."

Exhaling, she turned to look at Riley. "Is it naïve that I did?"

"No," Riley shook her head. "Of course not. You have every right to feel that way."

The girl let out a wry smile. "I guess it just makes me wonder what he would've done if you had been in my place."

Her words were spoken too clearly for Riley to have mistaken them, but for a split-second, she wondered if she had. There had been a hint of envy in her voice – one that she was all-too familiar with over their years of friendship.

Still, there was no doubt that Farkle truly loved the black-haired girl. They wouldn't have lasted the five years if it wasn't the case.

"Isadora, you do know we're just friends, right? Always have been, always will be," Riley said, hoping that she didn't sound defensive.

"I have no doubt about that, Riley." Then, a sigh escaped Smackle's lips. "I'm sorry. I have no idea what I'm talking about."

Riley looked away, unable to meet her eyes. She felt helpless at her inability to do anything to relieve the girl of her sorrow. She'd been on the receiving end of this before, where it was her friends who had attempted to cheer her up after a breakup. But if anything could be drawn from the experience, it was that moving on was a personal battle.

Not to mention, it killed Riley to know that she might even add to Smackle's pain had she known about the party.

All she could do now was to be there for her.

"Do you…want a hug?" She offered.

Smackle's lips spread into a hint of a smile. "I'd like that."

Riley scooted over to her side and wrapped her arms around the girl, gently pushing her head down such that it rested against the brunette's shoulder. They sat like this for a while, watching as customers breezed in and out of the shop.

"Feeling better?" Riley asked after what seemed like several minutes had passed.

"No," Smackle answered softly. "I think this is going to have to take a while."

"Right," Riley echoed, feeling a heaviness start to weigh in on her chest.

If there was anything she could do to change this – which there was – it came down to speaking with Farkle.

* * *

 _A/N: Hey there! I hope you guys enjoyed this quick (and short) update :) I'm pretty free now, considering that uni still hasn't started and I've ended my internship to enjoy the last six weeks before the next phase of my life begins :0 But anyway, I decided to give a little shoutout to one of my favourite book series ever (The Raven Cycle) at the start of the chapter. Does anyone here read it too? Maggie Stiefvater is such a brilliant writer and I honestly can't get enough of these characters! I still haven't read the last book, though :( I'm still waiting for the reprint so that I can get the full identical set, which is such a pain but I just can't stand mismatched book covers. Okay but that aside, do leave a review and let me know what you think! Love you all and see you in the next chapter c:_


	13. Chapter 13

**13**

 **Summer 2023**

 **New York | Massachusetts**

Despite the fun she had over the weekend, Riley wasn't sorry to be back at _The New Collective_ , a place which was already bustling with life at 8 in the morning.

The Monday blues didn't even seem so bad around here, what with the scent of freshly-brewed coffee wafting through the air and the bright surroundings adding a little spruce to the start of their day. Even their resident Siamese cat was in a good mood, skulking across the tables with its tail unfurled.

"Morning, Ana," Riley said with a grin as she plopped onto the chair opposite her friend.

The turquoise-haired woman raised her half-eaten burrito in greeting. "I don't know how this is even possible, but someone's looking perkier than usual," she observed.

"What's more magical than seeing your best friend's mum and your dad's best friend get married?" Riley mused, remembering how beautiful it was when Katy and Shawn made their exit under a bridge of sparklers held up by the guests.

"Yeah okay, that's just confusing."

"The wedding was great. It started off a little unpredictably, but it managed to end with a bang," Riley summarized, motioning her hands in the likeness of exploding fireworks.

"A bang, huh?" Anastasia winked as she crushed the burrito wrap into a tiny ball and threw it into the dustbin.

"I don't mean it like _that_!"

Eager to change the subject, Riley asked, "by the way, was there any news for me while I was gone?"

Anastasia shook her head. "Not really, except that Paxton wanted to know if you'd sent that email to Forest Meyers yet."

Riley's eyes widened at the mention of the elusive photographer's name. Having been so busy over the last two days, she completely forgot that Leigh Paxton had tasked her to leave him a thank you note on behalf of the company.

The girl groaned. "I haven't! Gosh, I hope I'm not too late."

"You aren't," a soothing but commanding voice suddenly popped out from behind her – a voice which Riley could easily recognize from anywhere.

The brunette spun around on her swivel chair till she was looking up at Leigh Paxton, whose statuesque figure proved an intimidating sight for one who might be in deep trouble. She let out an awkward smile before bouncing up to her feet, straightening her back so that she would feel less vulnerable.

Unfortunately, it didn't seem to be working.

"Ms – Ms Paxton!" She greeted in a flurry.

"You can save that for later," the woman smirked, well-aware of the effect she was having on her employee. "For now, would you please follow me to my office? I'd like to have a word with you."

Riley blinked in surprise, barely registering what Paxton had said before she started off for her office. The girl quickly snapped out of it and hurried after her, throwing a nervous glance to Anastasia, who merely gave a thumbs up.

Leigh Paxton's office was situated at the innermost end of the second floor, made out of solid glass from top to bottom such that anyone passing by could see what she was up to. Very rarely did she pull the white blinds down for privacy, but in this case, she did, tugging the cord to lower them over the transparent panels.

"Please, have a seat," she gestured towards the chair facing her desk.

Riley sat down and folded her hands across her lap, wondering what she'd ever done to get called into the workplace equivalent of a principal's office.

The woman made herself comfortable on the other end of the table and smiled. "Why do you look so nervous?" She questioned, "I didn't bring you here to reprimand you. In fact, it's quite the opposite."

"Really?" Riley frowned, uncertain of what to expect.

"Yes. I'm sure you know by now that companies assess their interns' performance during their working stints. It's a way of gauging their potential to become permanent staff once they graduate. We've been observing you, Miss Matthews, and you've definitely impressed us with your work ethic as well as your…irrepressible charm."

Riley beamed at that, feeling somewhat glad that her personality was still being appreciated outside of school.

"We've decided to offer you a position here after you graduate from NYU," Paxton continued, "but on one condition."

"Wait," Riley's mouth hung open in shock. "I don't think I heard you correctly… _what?_ "

It was already an honour to be interning at _The New Collective_ , much less be offered a real job. The company was everything she'd ever dreamed of, the ideal place she never thought she could step foot into till two months ago. It was the shining beacon of the writing industry, the benchmark for up-and-coming firms. And here the CEO was, actually offering her a place to work alongside them.

"I assure you, Riley, you're not dreaming," the woman chuckled. "But like I said, it's under one condition. One last assessment, if you will."

Attempting to recollect herself, Riley asked as calmly as she could, "and what is that?"

Leigh Paxton pressed her hands together – fingertips to fingertips – and leaned forward to take a closer look at the girl.

"We're tasking you with our yearly end-of-summer event. It doesn't have to be a charity, but it should have the elements of one – to inspire, to give, to affirm. We'll be placing you in charge of a team and together, you'll have a little over a month's time to plan for it. Will that be any trouble, Miss Matthews?"

"No, no of course not!" Riley exclaimed, her mind already overflowing with possible themes and ideas. "Thank you, Ms Paxton. You have no idea how much this means to me."

"Don't let me down, then," the woman smiled. "Have a nice day, Miss Matthews, and I hope you had a good time at the wedding."

Riley got up from her seat, grinning widely.

"I did have fun," she answered, "thanks for asking."

It was only till she'd said that, that she realized Paxton probably meant it as a gesture of politeness, rather than it being any real interest in how she'd spent the weekend. She mentally face-palmed herself.

"That was my cue to leave, huh?" she deadpanned.

"Yes."

"Alright then, I'll take my leave," the girl said as she quickly ushered herself out of the office.

Once outside, Riley saw Anastasia crane her neck over the tables to look at her. And judging by the smile on her face, it was pretty clear that she knew what went on behind those doors.

"So how did it go, kid?" she hollered, drawing attention from others in the surrounding vicinity.

Riley stepped forward, took a deep breath, and smiled.

* * *

 **To: forestmeyers**

 **Subject: Greetings from The New Collective**

 _Hi Forest,_

 _I'm Riley Matthews, writing to you on behalf of everyone here at_ The New Collective.

 _We'd just like to thank you for the incredible works you've been sending in to us over the last couple of years. Your frequent contribution has not gone unnoticed. In fact, your photographs mean a lot to my colleagues and me – a sentiment which I'm sure extends to our readers as well._

 _With this in mind, we're currently in the midst of planning for our summer-end event_ _, and we believe that you will be a great addition to our team._

 _Let me know if you're interested, and perhaps we can discuss the offer in greater detail over coffee sometime this week._

 _I look forward to your favourable reply._

 _Warmest regards,_

 _Riley_

* * *

Farkle closed the door to his apartment, leaving his luggage by the coat rack as he kicked off his shoes and settled back against the couch.

Having drawn the curtains over the living room windows when he left, the house was illuminated only by the purple glow of a lava lamp sitting next to the television console. The boy fumbled for the remote control on the low table in front of him and proceeded to turn the lights on, engulfing the room in sudden brightness.

"Home sweet home," he muttered.

The plane ride back to Massachusetts had been nothing short of uneventful. Even the seat beside him where Lucas should've been, was empty. So much for being generous – not even a single soul had wanted to take it.

Thankfully, the wedding turned out to be much better than he'd expected it to be. It started off tensed and awkward, but got a little more bearable towards the end, especially after Riley invited him to dance. He'd never been one to shy away from dance floors, often busting out his crazy, uninhibited moves without a single care in the world. It was only after he'd entered college that he became more subdued and controlled – something which he knew Riley had taken notice of.

And then the silly girl had apologized, even when he didn't ask for it. He always believed that he got what he deserved – for having wavering feelings for Smackle and not fighting for her when he should have. But he saw the pain in Riley's eyes and wondered if she'd held on to the guilt for the past three years as he did. That was why he let her say what she did, and he planned on doing the same the next time they met.

After their song had ended, Riley was immediately swept away by Cory and Topanga's friends, only returning to the boy when the night had started to wind down.

"We should catch up some time," she'd said as they walked back towards the bed-and-breakfast. "When you come back to visit New York, I mean. I'm sure Maya would love to know what you've been up to. You still have my number, right?"

"Yeah," Farkle had answered. "And I return quite often, actually, since my dad's headquarters are there and all."

"Of course," the girl smiled in response. "How could I forget?"

The boy found himself smiling as he recounted the memory, but the moment was cut short by the shrill ring of his smartphone.

It was his father.

Farkle picked it up. "Hello?"

"Hi son," Stuart Minkus' voice came through the speaker. "How was the wedding?"

"You would know if you'd been there."

There was a slight pause, but Stuart wouldn't have made it this far in his career if he couldn't handle a blow or two to his ego. Hence, the man continued, seemingly unaffected by the remark.

"I would've gone if I could, Farkle. But I had other important matters to attend to, one of which is the reason I'm calling you."

"What about?" Farkle questioned, his eyebrows furrowing.

Now that he'd noticed, his father rarely ever entertained personal phone calls. He usually communicated through his secretary when needed – a young lady who had previously flirted with the boy despite being older than him.

"I've got a social event coming up this week that I'd like you to come for. There's going to be lots of important people there, and I have to impress this one client who could really change the course of our company."

Farkle closed his eyes for a second as he scanned through a mental list of companies that his father had recently been trying to engage a deal with.

"Let me guess… _McConnery_ _Industries_?" He asked, propping his right leg atop his left.

It was one of the largest manufacturing companies in the world, specialising in state-of-the-art technology for both home and work. To gain it as a subsidiary would mean an expansion of _Minkus International_ , propelling them to the top of the engineering sphere.

"That's right, son," Stuart answered. "So what do you say?"

Farkle considered this for a moment, as if he had any real choice in the first place. "Where and when is it?" He finally asked.

"New York City. This coming Wednesday."

"That's the day of your and mum's wedding anniversary," the boy observed. "You should do something special for her."

"Son –"

"I'll be there."

Stuart Minkus' voice perked up considerably upon hearing this. "Well, great! I can arrange for my private jet to pick you up at 6pm tomorrow."

Farkle sighed. "It's fine, dad. I can get there by myself. I'll see you then."

Without waiting for his father's reply, the boy ended the call and set his phone back down on the table. He tossed a glance at the clock on his wall and counted the number of hours he had left to enjoy the peace and quiet of his own solitude:

Twenty-eight hours, thirty-three minutes and two seconds, to be exact.

"I guess you aren't going to be unpacked just yet," he said to the luggage sitting by the door, for he was returning to New York much sooner than he'd thought.

* * *

Riley was lying on the couch beside Maya, her legs draped lazily across the latter's lap. They were binge-watching the latest season of _MasterChef Junior_ on TV, a show that hadn't gotten old despite having already entered its eleventh season.

"These kids make me feel like a disgrace," Maya lamented as she watched the contestants whipped up dessert after dessert. "And the kids at work make me feel like murdering someone."

The blonde had taken up a relief-teaching job for art at the kindergarten nearby, but what she didn't expect was how wild and disobedient the children were going to be – so much so that she spent more time cleaning up after their mess rather than teaching them any real skills.

"It's making me think twice about becoming an art teacher."

"But you _love_ teaching, Maya. And you love art even more. Maybe kids just aren't your cup of tea," Riley said as she stared up at the ceiling. "Teenagers, perhaps?"

Maya shrugged before focusing her attention back on the screen. "I don't know."

No matter how much she tried, Riley just couldn't concentrate on the reality show. She was much too distracted by the task that Leigh Paxton had entrusted her with, along with the fact that the precedence of her job offer depended on its success. The only move she'd made so far was to invite Forest Meyers on-board the project – something she was beginning to regret more and more as the minutes ticked by.

The email was supposed to be a thank-you note, not a request for hire, and she wasn't even in the proper position to grant him payment. However, all of these practicalities were being pushed aside for a feeling in her gut, which honestly didn't even make sense at all. But still, she trusted it. What was the worst that could happen? Forest Meyers would just think she was batshit crazy, and she'd just have to live the rest of her life knowing that he had such an impression of her.

She hadn't even told Maya about the big news yet. It felt too soon, too fragile and too huge of a deal to comprehend. In fact, so preoccupied was Riley by this, that she didn't even realize when a little notification popped up on her laptop screen.

"Hey Riles," Maya patted her feet, "you've got mail."

The brunette immediately straightened up and pulled her laptop closer to her, clicking on the link that had just appeared. The window opened up to a message with the following subject: **Greetings from The New Collective** – a reply to the email she'd sent earlier that day.

Her heart started to pound fast against her chest as she read it aloud, her pace quickening the further along she went. "Dear Riley, thank you for the gracious compliments regarding my photographs. I'm afraid that I can't yet confirm my involvement in the project, but it would be nice if you could provide me with more explanation when we meet in person. I'll be heading down to New York this week and am wondering if you'll be free then? Yours sincerely, Forest."

Riley turned to look at Maya, unable to contain her excitement. " _Maya,_ " she tried to speak calmly.

"Sweetheart," the blonde lifted an eyebrow, "what on earth does that mean?"

Riley burst out in joyous laughter and tackled her friend onto the couch, causing the both of them to fall upon the cushions. "IT MEANS THAT I'M GOING TO MEET FOREST MEYERS!" She squealed. "Take _that_ Lucas, Neil and Oliver!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Maya breathed, struggling to push Riley off of her. "Way to bring up all three of your exes in one sentence."

"I'm going to meet the love of my life," Riley shot back. "I'm pretty sure that justifies it."

Maya scoffed as she ran a hand through her hair, which was still damp from the shower she just took.

"Oh _now_ you're one to talk. Spill it, Matthews. What's this all about?"

The brunette drew away from her and sat cross-legged, smirking. "You wouldn't believe it if I told you."

* * *

 _A/N: Hey guys! I'm back with another chapter and I hope ya'll liked it c: (Looks like you're going to have to wait a little while more for Riley and Farkle's confrontation, heh) But as usual, I love reading your thoughts on the story so do leave a review! Have a good weekend and see you in the next one (:_


	14. Chapter 14

**14**

 **Summer 2023**

 **New York**

Farkle stood in front of the mirror to fix his tie, replicating a simple set of manoeuvres that he could complete within seconds. Once he was done, he took a step back to observe his reflection, which stared back at him tall, handsome, studious, and nothing like how he felt on the inside.

The boy was back in his old room, the one on the top floor of a sprawling apartment complex that overlooked Tribeca and the city beyond. Nothing much of it had changed since he left for college. The life-sized train tracks still looped through his room and into the next, while the planetarium on his ceiling remained spick and span. His eyes subconsciously wandered towards the tiny brown planet of Pluto, albeit a little ways off from the rest, but still the one that drew most of his attention.

"Mr Minkus," one of his housemaids suddenly popped into the room, "your father says it's time."

Farkle lowered his gaze back down from the ceiling and smiled. "Noted, Mrs Sanders. Thank you."

As the woman scuttled away, he threw a last glance at his reflection, taking in the pitch black shade of his suit and the way his hair was styled back.

It was time for him to channel a fragment of the Farkle Minkus he'd lost. And although he was able to latch onto that tiny piece like a leech for the few hours he had to entertain his guests, it would be drained by the end of the night and left to recharge for the next. Such was a cycle that repeated itself with every event he had to attend – a cycle which he was starting to get tired of as of late.

"You've got this," the boy murmured to himself, and then he stepped out of the room and into the hallway.

* * *

The event was held in the banquet hall of The Plaza, one of the finest hotels in New York City – complete with golden drapery and glasses of champagne which fizzed merrily in the hands of guests.

There were no justifications as to why the event was taking place, except for the fact that this was what rich men did. They threw huge parties and invited a hundred people just so they could strike a deal with one of them.

Farkle was holding on to a drink himself, taking little sips from it as he drifted methodically from person to person, armed with a welcoming smile. The guests – all high-flyers and owners of large companies – were absolutely enthralled with him, patting his shoulders and commenting, "oh, what a fine young man you've become!"

"I take after my father," the boy would respond with a gracious chuckle. "Though these days he says that I might surpass him any time soon. Frankly speaking, I think so too."

The people would then burst out laughing before giving him a firm clap on the back, and that would be his cue to move on to the next group.

After a little over an hour had passed, Farkle managed to escape into one of the balconies to catch a breather. But just as he was about to step towards the marble railings, he realized there was someone there as well, shrouded amongst the shadows.

"Farkle," a woman uttered in surprise.

The boy immediately recognized the voice as belonging to his mother, who confirmed his guess when she stepped into the light to reveal herself.

"Mom, what are you doing out here?" Farkle asked.

He quickly reached out to close the glass doors leading to the balcony and proceeded to pull the red curtains shut. It was just the two of them now – mother and son.

Jennifer Bassett Minkus absently swirled the glass of white wine in her hand as her gaze settled upon him. "I'm just taking a little break like you are," she said matter-of-factly.

The woman was a sight to behold in her long, admiral blue dress. In fact, just the way she carried herself was enough to intimidate the people around her. Or in the case of such parties, gain the respect and admiration of her peers.

However, Farkle had lived with his mother long enough to know when she was upset. He could see it in the glint of her eyes – glassy and hurt. She had been trying to maintain a tough front this entire time, putting her feelings aside for the sake of her husband's party, and there was no doubt that her pride also played a part in keeping her grounded. After all, what the Minkuses hated most was to let their personal affairs come in the way of work. Though unfortunately for them, their son was finding it increasingly hard to dissociate matters of the brain and heart.

"He forgot about your wedding anniversary again, didn't he?" Farkle guessed. He couldn't be bothered to hide his disappointment this time, or even compress the silent anger that was starting to rage inside of him.

Jennifer casted him a forlorn look. "Oh honey," she said, setting her drink down on the poseur table between them. "If I let such petty things affect me, I would've given up a long time ago."

She paused for a second before nodding her head, as if to affirm her own words. "He's a good man, Farkle. He is. It's just, good men are often so blessed with plenty that sometimes they forget what they already have."

Farkle looked away. "I'm sorry."

"Don't you be sorry or go about worrying for me, Farkle," Jennifer patted his cheek. "I'll be fine. Now go out and show them what the Minkuses are made of. I'll be with you in a minute."

The boy didn't want to leave his mother or the quiet warmth of the summer air, but dragging this out wasn't going to make the party any more desirable than it already was. So he decided to go, pushing the curtains aside and allowing the yellow glow of the hall to spill back into the balcony.

"Happy 23rd anniversary, mom," Farkle smiled before stepping back into the chatter-filled room.

As soon as the boy re-entered the place, Stuart Minkus rushed over to him with a patronising smile.

"Son! There you are," he declared, grabbing firmly onto the boy's arm as he led him away to a less-conspicuous corner of the hall. "Before I introduce you to Mr McConnery, there's something I'd like to say to you."

"What now?" Farkle quipped, feeling slightly annoyed.

Stuart adjusted his tie and cleared his throat. "Well, I think it would be a good idea if you started bringing a date to these events."

Farkle stared at the man, unblinking.

"I have a friend whose daughter you might be interested in taking to parties like this," he continued unabashed. "Consider it…a partnership of sorts. Based on my experience, people tend to take a man with a lady more seriously, rather than just you having to amble aimlessly around the place."

Farkle could hardly believe what he'd heard. His father had just stooped to a whole new level of bigotry.

"Dad," he whispered, "do you even _hear_ yourself?"

Stuart rubbed his temples, looking equally frustrated. "I know that we've had our fair share of differences, Farkle, but I'm just trying to give you some advice which I think could really benefit you. Learn to hear me out, would you?"

The boy shook his head. "So that's what mom means to you, huh? An asset for you to covet? A woman to decorate your arm and show-off to the world?"

Stuart's eyes widened in shock as he raised a trembling finger towards his son. "How dare you paint me in such a regard! Your mother is one of the finest ladies I've met, and every single day I am _grateful_ to have her as my wife!"

"If you were truly grateful, you would've at least bothered to remember that it's your wedding anniversary," Farkle glared back at him, slowly simmering. "I even reminded you about it just two days ago."

He felt his pulse leap with greater vehemence the more he thought about it. If this was the absolute sorry state he would be in when ruling the world, he no longer wanted to have any part to play in it.

"I'm done," the words spilled out from his lips, and oh, how good it felt to finally say it.

Farkle had known for a while that this was coming, but now that he actually said it out loud, he felt relieved, like he was shedding a mask that had developed into something worn and weary over the years. The Farkle Minkus he grew up becoming was not the one he was now. In fact, he still didn't have much of a clue as to who he really was, but at least he knew what he was not.

"What did you just say?" Stuart asked, appalled.

"I said I'm done," Farkle answered calmly. "I can't deal with this anymore."

"I did not raise you up to be a quitter, Farkle Minkus. We are _not_ quitters," the man said through gritted teeth. There lay a hint of disbelief in his voice, the inability to comprehend that his son – his intelligent and wildly ambitious son – had actually said such a thing.

"Good luck with McConnery."

And as his father continued to stand rooted to the spot, anger holding him down, the boy turned on his heels and strode out of the banquet hall, away from all the superficiality and pretence.

* * *

Riley was at a quaint little café in Midtown West of New York, awaiting the arrival of Forest Meyers.

He had sent her a text just an hour ago requesting for their meeting to be pushed forth by a day. It wasn't the most convenient time for the girl, who had been busy trying to scrub clean the mess Maya had made after spilling oil paint on their carpet, but she was eventually chased out of the house by the paintbrush-wielding blonde.

So there she was now, sitting at a table under the shade of a tree that had grown within the recesses of the open area. The place was dimly lit by colourful, cotton ball lights strung up between brick walls, and on each table sat a burning candle that melted inside a wax-riddled casing – pretty befitting of its name as _The Sundown Shack._

There weren't many people patronising the café at such a late hour, and Riley was mostly left to her own devices alongside a sole performer, who was strumming a little tune on his guitar.

She looked down to check her watch, which indicated the time to be already half past ten. The man was fifteen minutes late.

Just as she was about to whip out her phone to text him, Riley heard the soft thudding of footsteps moving across the stone ground. She turned around expectantly, only to be greeted by the sight of Farkle Minkus, panting and dishevelled. He had on a white dress shirt and black pants, while his necktie had been tugged loose around the collar.

She stared at him for a moment, taking in his sudden appearance.

"F-Farkle," she said as she rose up from her seat. "What are you doing here? I didn't know you were coming back to New York so soon."

Her eyes flickered to the empty chair across from her before landing back on him again. "Did you come alone? I'd love to chat but I'm waiting for someone else."

The boy stood there for a moment, as if contemplating what to say. He eventually shook his head and took a step forward.

"There's no need to wait any longer," he told her.

"What? Why?" Riley frowned, casting him a look of confusion.

"Because," Farkle sucked in a shaky breath, "he's right here."

* * *

 _A/N: Hello hello! I hope you all enjoyed this latest chapter :) Before I move on to some fun facts regarding my thought processes while writing this, I'd just like to say thank you for the sweet comments and constructive criticism. I've been writing for a preeeetty long time (since kindergarten, actually) and I'm glad that this fic has reached a stage where people care enough to actually leave me tips for improvement! But just to address one of the **Guest** 's comments, I come from a country that takes after the UK spelling, so I guess I'm naturally inclined to spell words in that format as compared to those from the US. I don't think I can change my spelling for the rest of the story (it doesn't really make sense to do so either), but I'll definitely abide by it when the characters are speaking, so thanks for pointing that out for me :)_

 _That aside, I used to take literature in junior college and one of the books we had to study was Philip Larkin's poetry collection. There's this one poem called_ _ **Vers de société,**_ _where in the first few stanzas, Larkin describes the speaker as being frustrated with the superficiality of parties; having to engage in small talk and conversations that lack any real substance as opposed to doing something more productive and meaningful at home. This was the inspiration behind Farkle's experiences and feelings towards the social events he's attended, more of which will be touched on as the story continues._

 _Yup, so that was my random fun fact, haha. Sorry for leaving ya'll on a cliffhanger, but the next chapter is (hopefully) going to be worth it! Also, don't worry - Lucas, Josh, Zay & Maya's storylines are far from being over. They'll be making reappearances sooner than you know it! _

_And not to forget, THANKS FOR THE 100 FOLLOWS?! I appreciate the support that every single one of you have been showing this story thus far, so thank you, thank you, thank you! You guys are the best :') As a show of my gratitude, here's a short teaser for the next chapter:_

"Trust me," Riley whispered, "I'm sorry too."

 _Feel free to leave a review and see you in the next one :)_


	15. Chapter 15

**15**

 **Summer 2023**

 **New York**

Riley eyed the man in front of her, trying to make sense of what was happening. She had come to the café expecting to meet Forest Meyers, and yet here she was, standing before a Farkle Minkus who was out-of-breath.

It didn't take long for her to connect the dots together, starting with their initials – _F.M_. She felt almost silly for not having realised it sooner, but then again, Forest Meyers seemed real enough a person for her to believe that he could be anyone else.

What Riley just couldn't understand was why Farkle found it in himself the need to do such a thing. She felt played – her feelings lied to and trampled upon. The photographer she had been idolising for the past three years had now turned out to be the same person she tried to steer clear of. And although it seemed pretty unlikely that Farkle knew just how much she loved his photographs – or that she even followed his art, for that matter – he'd been making a conscious decision when he agreed to meet her under the guise of Forest Meyers.

"Riley, I can explain," Farkle said as he took a step closer.

"Oh, you owe me an explanation, alright," the girl replied.

To think she saw him as someone she could actually fall in love with.

She knew it'd been a pretty nonsensical notion from the start, becoming more of a running joke within her circle of family and friends rather than anything else. But then she joined _The New Collective_ and got to see his works right before her eyes; to touch them with her own bare hands. And the chance of that happening merely increased along with the email she'd sent. She believed she would be meeting him here at _The Sundown Shack_ , even putting in the effort to dress a little nicer just so she could cast a good first impression.

She'd spent so long running away from Farkle and her feelings, thinking that she could get away from them. But as always, all paths merely led back to him – no matter where or how far she went.

"I just don't get it," Riley shook her head, trying to cling onto the idea that this might not be true. "You're joking, right? Tell me you're joking. Tell me you're friends with the real Forest Meyers and that you two are just playing a prank on me."

Farkle gave her a pained look, one that made it seem like he was physically hurting. "It's not a prank, Riley," he said quietly. "It's me. It's always been me."

"And you didn't think to actually _tell_ me that before we met? Also, why are you dressed like that?"

The boy opened his mouth to respond, only to be cut off by the muffled ringing of Riley's phone. She tossed him a quick glare before digging inside her purse to fish it out, her eyes widening in surprise upon seeing who the caller was.

Noticing the sudden change in her expression, Farkle inquired, "who's that?"

"Your mother," Riley answered, watching his face turn into one of apprehension as she picked up the call.

"Riley, hi," the woman's breathless voice came through the line. "It's Jennifer Bassett Minkus. I know it's been a while. I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

"It's nice to hear from you again, Mrs. Minkus," the girl said kindly, her gaze never once lifting off of Farkle. "And don't worry, you aren't. At least not exactly…"

"Great! Um, I just wanted to know if Farkle contacted you any time within the last hour? His phone's been switched off and you're the first person that came to mind that he might have gone to."

Probably having caught on to his mother's motives, Farkle started gesturing for the girl to stay silent, shaking his head vigorously in protest. But Riley was having none of it. She was angry, bruised, confused, and most importantly, she wanted to know _why._ So she decided to ignore him and went ahead to tell her the truth.

"Actually, Mrs. Minkus, Farkle's right here with me."

The woman let out an audible sigh of relief. "Oh, thank goodness," she breathed, "he left our party halfway through and I just wanted to make sure that he didn't do anything rash."

Riley ran her eyes over Farkle's attire. It was only then that she noticed a black jacket draped across his forearm, barely visible in the night. So that was where he had come from. It would explain why he was dressed so formally.

She bit down on her bottom lip, wondering what she should do next. He must have taken off from the party for some reason, and as exasperated as she was with him, their years of friendship had left her with an understanding that the boy only ever snuck out to see her when he or his parents had gotten into a fight.

"I…I think you should just give him some time," Riley finally said, softly so Farkle couldn't hear her.

"Yes, I probably should," Jennifer replied hesitantly. "Thank you, Riley."

"It's no problem, Mrs. Minkus. I'll make sure he gets back home."

"Please, call me Jennifer. And I hope you have a good night, Riley. Thanks again."

The girl glanced over at Farkle, who had given up and was now watching her in frustration.

"You too, Mrs – I mean, Jennifer."

Following a small chuckle at her accidental slip, the woman hung up, leaving the two stuck in their half-suspended argument once more.

"I can't believe you made me sound like a kid who needs taking care of," Farkle huffed.

"Well, maybe it's because you are. Explains why you found it okay to tinker with my feelings like that," Riley retorted as she shoved her phone back down her bag.

"I have my reasons."

"Oh, you have your reasons, do you? Or are you just being irresponsible again? Your mother's worried about you, Farkle! Whatever happened, couldn't you just stick it out till the party was over?"

The boy fell quiet all of a sudden, maintaining his steely gaze for the longest second before he muttered, "I guess not."

"Wait, where are you going?" Riley frowned as he turned to leave.

He paused to look over his shoulder. "Anywhere else, since you don't seem to want to talk."

Riley sighed. "Farkle…"

"I'm sorry our first 'catch-up' had to happen this way," he said, sounding truly apologetic.

A feeling akin to guilt started to creep up on the girl, but she just couldn't bring herself to stop him from going – not with her inability to make sense or come to terms with the startling revelation. So she let him leave, watching as his figure receded in the distance till he reached the exit and slammed the door shut behind him. The sound reverberated through her ears, coming out empty and hollow.

"Trust me," Riley whispered, "I'm sorry too."

And it felt just like déjà vu.

* * *

 **Summer 2020**

 **New York**

Riley sat cross-legged before her laptop, drumming her fingers across her knee as she contemplated her next move.

She knew what had to be done, but it was the uncertainty of how Farkle would react to it that was holding her back. All she could count on was their habit of trusting each other and hope that it was enough to steer him into making the right decision.

 _"I guess it just makes me wonder what he would've done if you had been in my place."_

Those were the words that resounded in Riley's head as she'd made her way home from lunch with Smackle. She was certain that it hadn't been said out of ill-intent – a probable slip of the tongue that was wholly justified by the girl's current predicament.

However, she still couldn't ignore the deeper implications it suggested – ones that frightened even herself.

Farkle didn't like her that way. He couldn't. He belonged to Smackle and Smackle belonged to him and that was the way the universe worked. And it _had_ worked, until somebody tried to stick a wrench in it and had the boy kiss her while he was drunk.

Even then, no one knew about it, and it probably didn't mean anything to him either. So Riley could just pretend that it never happened and no one would get hurt. Well, at least with the exception of herself. But that was a sacrifice she was willing to make if it meant everything could go back to the way it was.

Which it would.

She was sure of it.

That was all the motivation she needed to send Farkle a video request, and she waited anxiously for him to pick up the call as she stared at the little green dot hovering beside his username. He was online, which wasn't much of a surprise considering how his plans for the weekend had been cancelled. But if she was successful in her attempt to get them back together, she might just be able to change that.

Within seconds, the blank screen gave way to a close-up of Farkle, who was busy tapping away at the webcam to see if it was working.

Riley felt her shoulders relax as she smiled at him. "Hey there," she said, waving to grasp his attention.

Farkle looked her way and broke into a grin. "Hey, Riles. What's up? I thought we weren't skyping till 7."

"Yeah, well, some things cropped up," the girl admitted. "Like how I know you and Smackle broke up."

Upon hearing this, Farkle's smile faded as his gaze dropped to his lap. "I guess she told you, then."

Riley nodded, wringing her hands as she considered what to say to him. It was a freshly-sensitive topic to broach, and she had to do it in such a way that could jolt him into realising the mistake he'd made.

"Why didn't you stop her, Farkle?" She finally said. "Why didn't you stop her from leaving?"

The boy struggled to find an answer to this, as evident from the way he clenched his jaw and refused to look her in the eyes. Riley wasn't sure if it was pain or something else that prevented him from finding the words he needed, but watching him like this felt like a clamp over her own heart.

"It was for the best," he managed, looking up to catch her gaze. "It would be useless to even try putting up a fight. Her parents are ruthless. That was why we hid it from them this whole time. And besides, our ambitions have grown too similar. Staying together will just cause us to get in each other's way."

Before the girl could say anything else, he added with a grim smile, "law of increasing opportunity cost."

"I don't think now's the time for economic metaphors, Farkle," Riley said seriously. "And I'm not about to let you throw nearly five years' worth of a solid relationship down the drain just because you decided to call it quits!"

" _We_ ," Farkle corrected. "Smackle and I _both_ agreed to this amicable separation, so I don't see why any intervention is required."

Riley sighed, pushing her fringe away from her eyes. This didn't seem to be working in her favour at all. "But the two of you are made for each other!" She protested.

There was a long pause as Farkle searched her eyes.

"Are we?" He asked, his voice barely a whisper.

"Yes!" The girl replied, adamant. "You can't just give up after hitting a small bump in the road!"

"Riley, has it come across to you that this is the _first_ bump in the road Smackle and I have encountered in all the years we've been together?"

Riley fell silent for a moment as she thought back on her recent memories of the couple. Even though she didn't want to admit it, Farkle was right. While they had their occasional squabbles and scholarly disagreements, their relationship had been smooth-sailing ninety percent of the time – a stark contrast to Riley and Maya's own relationships.

But just because it was odd didn't mean it had to be bad, did it?

"Okay, that's true, but isn't this just greater proof for how compatible the two of you are?" Riley pressed.

"I thought a lot about it last night too," Farkle said, "and I came to the conclusion that the reason we've never had a fight is because we lack passion."

"Passion?"

The boy nodded, becoming seemingly detached all of a sudden. It was something that happened whenever he started speaking from a scientific or analytical perspective.

"Couples break up for two reasons," he continued, "either from an overwhelming passion for their _own_ selves thus leading to a neglect of their partner, or in cases like ours, a lack of passion between both. I guess somewhere along the way, I realised that."

Riley pressed her lips into a thin line. "But you can only speak for yourself, not Smackle."

"I know," Farkle said, staring down at his hands.

Somehow, seeing him act so nonchalantly about this made the girl even angrier, and she slammed her palms down on the keyboard with a surprising amount of force.

"Fight for her, then! You can't just give up without putting up a fight!"

This was what Smackle had meant all along. She'd wished Farkle had stopped her from leaving; wanted him to let her know that she was a cause worth fighting for. And the worst part was that he did neither of that.

"I no longer feel the same way I did for her, Riley," Farkle winced at the sharp tone of her voice.

Riley shook her head, refusing to accept his decision.

"If there's anything I learnt from my parents, Farkle, it's that love is a _choice._ Feelings can come and go; they are fickle. But if you plant your feet firmly on the ground and _choose_ to stay…" the girl found herself trailing off as she realised how hopeless the situation was.

The boy had already made up his mind before she even uttered a word. Nothing she said now was going to change a thing.

"Why are you so fixated on getting Smackle and I back together?" Farkle demanded, his eyebrows furrowing as he tried to understand the driving force behind her actions.

And then, as if hitting the bullseye, his lips parted. "There's another reason why you're doing this, isn't there?" He questioned.

"I can't tell you," Riley mumbled.

"Dammit, Riley, please don't make me get on the next flight back to New York just so I can ask you this in person. What's wrong?"

"I said I can't tell you!" The girl burst out. "But just know that I have every good reason to confront you about this."

Farkle stared at her – eyes boring, prying and searching for an answer.

"If you're not going to tell me what's going on, how do you expect me to help you, Riley?" He said quietly.

"That's just it, Farkle! I don't want you to help _me_. I want you to help Smackle!"

"Riles –"

"– you're making the wrong decision, here, Farkle," Riley said, her chest heaving heavily as she tried to regain her composure. "And I don't want you to regret that."

"Well, I'm telling you now that I won't."

The girl shook her head. "You're wrong. And by the time you realize that, it'll be too late."

She averted her gaze from Farkle and swiftly ended the video call, leaving her staring back at her own reflection cast against the glossy black screen.

She knew that getting him to change his mind was a long shot, but she still couldn't believe that she had failed.

* * *

 _A/N: Hi guys! So that was the riarkle confrontation that you have all been waiting for (times two!) Hopefully it managed to live up to your expectations :) The past Riley is acting really weird at the moment, and clearly there's more to it than meets the eye, so what could be up with her?_

 _Honestly, along with having to juggle the past-present timeframe, it's been pretty crazy on my end with the storylines that I've plotted out for these characters. But so far so good, and I'd just like to thank you guys again for the overwhelming response the last chapter :') Your support keeps me motivated!_

 _That aside, here's another fun fact: the story was first conceptualized around the idea of Riley inviting Farkle to be her plus one at a wedding. But somewhere along the way, the stories I wanted to tell for the characters didn't go well with the scenario, so it just ended up with Riley and Farkle meeting at the wedding after years of avoiding each other. I wonder how it would've turned out if I stuck with the plus one thing, but it didn't really make sense for the plot I was creating, so yeah, perhaps a future one-shot? But at the moment, this story is my number one priority, which I guess is easily helped by the fact that I'm still feeling super inspired! (Something which all writers know doesn't happen often as the mind tends to get distracted very easily haha)._

 _Anyway, thanks for listening to my rambles. Please leave a review to let me know what you think! See you all in the next chapter c:_


	16. Chapter 16

**16**

 **Summer 2023**

 **New York**

Farkle woke up to the glare of the morning sun. He squinted against the light and fumbled for the glasses on his nightstand, putting them on as he tossed a glance at the bedside clock – it was 8am. The boy had always been an early riser, but this time, he found himself feeling lethargic and exhausted after all that happened the previous night.

"Looks like someone's finally awake," a familiar voice rang through the air, reminding Farkle of someone whom he hadn't seen in a long time.

"Smackle," he breathed, his blurry gaze focusing on the slim figure standing beside his window with the curtains bunched in her hands.

It took a couple beats for Farkle to realise the state he was in, but when he finally did, he yanked the covers over his clothed chest and backed up against the headboard.

"Smackle! How the heck did you get in here?!" He demanded, eyeing the girl warily. The fact that he was still groggy from sleep didn't do much to help him make sense of the situation either.

Smackle was dressed confidently in a red peplum dress and black pumps, while the sides of her lips were curled up into a playful smile. She was the bold image of a young woman who'd helped her parents work their way up to become one of _Minkus International's_ fiercest competitors, and now here she was, in the room of the company's future CEO.

"Your father let me in," she shrugged.

A look of irritation flickered across the boy's face, to which she quickly added, "but he wasn't the one who invited me here. I came by my own free will, so it would be nice if you could stop glaring at me like that."

Farkle frowned, surprised by the fact that Smackle still understood him well enough to know what elicited the reaction. This, along with how she just barged into his room without notice and had probably watched him while he was sleeping, made him feel squeamish and uncomfortable.

He cleared his throat in an attempt to mask his discomfort. "Next question, then," he said. "What on earth are you doing in my _room_?"

A chuckle bubbled up Smackle's throat. "Oh, remember how your dad mentioned that he had a friend whose daughter you might be interested in bringing to future parties?"

The boy nodded.

"Yeah, well, he was talking about me."

"Wait," Farkle blinked. " _What?_ "

Smackle sighed, pushing her black-rimmed glasses up the bridge of her nose. "Apparently your dad and mine are friends now," she explained. "And they think it would do both of us some good if we struck up a partnership."

"And by that you mean put up a show that we're dating?" Farkle scoffed at the irony. "Why the sudden change of heart?"

The girl arched an eyebrow at the sight of him in his bed before sauntering over towards the half-opened door. "I don't know," she said. "But let's continue the conversation after you get dressed. It's weird talking to you in this intimate environment."

"Well, that makes two of us," Farkle mumbled as he watched her step out of the room and into the hallway, the sound of her heels drifting down the stairs.

Once Smackle was out of sight, the boy slid out of bed and swung his feet to the ground, pausing for a moment as memories from the previous night came rushing back to him. The one image that recurred in his mind was that of Riley's face, hurt and confused upon finding out that he was Forest.

She had a much larger and adverse reaction than he'd expected, and he couldn't help but beat himself up about it. He screwed things up again just when they were finally starting to move on.

After he'd fled the party, an instinct cultivated over years of being friends with Riley somehow kicked in, causing him to seek out her comfort and warmth when all he wanted was to run away from it all.

He hadn't been thinking as Forest when he asked to meet her at the last minute; he had been thinking as Farkle. And now he was beginning to believe that that was a mistake.

Farkle shook his head, trying to get rid of his troubled thoughts and focus on the matter at hand – Smackle, who had somehow decided to reappear in his life again after not having seen her in years.

He swiftly slipped on a pair of grey sweatpants over his boxers before making his way down to the kitchen, where the girl had just about wiped clean the plate of pancakes his housemaid had made for her. A disquieted look graced her face, proof that there was probably more to why she came here than she had alluded to.

"Hey," he said, sitting at the opposite side of the counter. There was a plate of pancakes before him as well, but he wasn't in the mood for eating just yet.

Smackle looked up at him and smiled. "Mrs Sanders cooks well," she commented.

"She does," Farkle agreed. He crossed his arms and leaned forward. "So what's the real reason you're here, Isadora?"

"To let you know that I'm not interested in having this partnership any more than you are," she said. "I've made my way to this point without any man whatsoever and I think it's highly unnecessary for me to have one now."

"Same," Farkle nodded, "let's just tell our parents that, then."

Smackle took a last bite of her food before setting the utensils down on the plate – fork parallel to knife.

"It's not as simple as that. You know how my parents are. While I might not be able to decipher the reason behind their change of heart towards you, I know that whatever they're up to, they're doing for _my_ sake. So telling them that we're not interested isn't going to cut it. You asked me for the real reason I came here. Well, I'm here to ask you for your help."

"My help?"

"Yes, the only way to get through to my parents is if we can get your father to convince them that _this_ ," Smackle gestured between them, "is not a good idea. Parent-to-parent, on equal standings."

The girl had a point, but the idea of speaking to his father again after what happened last night seemed even less appealing to Farkle than usual. He looked away.

"Isadora, I…don't know if I'm in the best position to do that right now," he said.

Smackle's features softened ever-so-slightly. "It's a lot to ask," she noted, "but as a friend, I'm telling you to make amends with him regardless of the situation. It doesn't take much emotional perception to see how much hurt you're carrying with you."

"Is it that obvious?" Farkle furrowed his eyebrows.

"Very. And if you keep holding onto that, it's not going to do either one of you or the company a favour."

Farkle smirked. "Funny how this is coming from my supposed arch nemesis," he joked.

"We were never that kind of enemies to begin with," Smackle smiled before sitting up a little straighter. "Besides, if I do win, I will want to have done it fair and square."

"That's true," the boy said, raising his glass of apple juice in the air.

"Is this a toast to our partnership against our partnership?" She raised an eyebrow, gently tapping her own glass against his.

Farkle couldn't help but release a smile at this, reminded of the girl's frequent unintentional humour.

"I guess you could put it that way. It means I'll consider it."

Smackle set her drink back down on the table, looking more relieved than she'd been when he first stepped into the room.

"Thank you, Farkle," she said.

"You're welcome."

He studied her for a moment, thinking back to how she slowly detached herself from the group after they'd broken up, choosing to dedicate her time and efforts into her education and career instead. Even after all those years, he'd never really forgiven himself for letting her go, but at the same time, he knew he would have done a great disservice to them both if he chose to fight for her for the wrong reasons. And looking at how successful she was now, he supposed that he did the right thing.

"How are you, Isadora?" He found himself asking.

"Honestly, I've never been better."

She was just about to add on to this when her phone suddenly vibrated against the counter top, a notification popping up on the screen to remind her of the day's schedule. She threw a quick glance at it before stepping off the chair – an indication that it was time for her to leave.

"I have to go," she said, slipping the phone into her purse. "Work beckons."

"I'll walk you out," Farkle offered as he led her across the sitting room to the front door.

As he started to open the door for her, Smackle paused and turned to look at him, causing him to stop midway.

"Just one more thing," she warned. "Be careful of taking up more than you can handle."

Farkle's grip on the doorknob tightened. "What do you mean?"

" _McConnery Industries_. I overheard my parents talking about it just a couple of days ago. Signing them on is a big deal, and it's probably going to change everything for you. So don't jump in so quick, or else the cracks will start to show."

"I highly doubt the chances of that ever happening is likely, now that I've walked out on them during the party," Farkle replied, pursing his lips.

Smackle pushed the door open the rest of the way before stepping foot outside. "Just talk to your dad, Farkle. The three of you should make the decision together. As a family."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "And _then_ you better help me get out of this mess."

The boy smiled, shaking his head in disbelief at the fact that she was actually standing right before him. It wasn't what he'd been expecting when he awoke that morning, but at least it managed to take his mind off of a certain Matthews, even if just for a while.

"Goodbye, Isadora," he said.

Smackle gave him a nod. "I'll see you around, Minkus."

And then she turned around and strode down the corridor.

* * *

Riley was sitting by the dining table when Maya shuffled out of her bedroom, running a hand through her long, dishevelled locks.

"Peaches, you're awake!" She beckoned for her to come over. "Could you pass me the jam, please?"

The blonde girl shot her a look as she walked over to the kitchen cabinet to fetch the jam as well as some overnight oats from the fridge.

"You took some bread and sat here _without_ getting spread?" She guffawed, sitting herself down at the table before pushing the bottle towards Riley.

"Give me a break, Maya," Riley let out a little sigh as she propped her head up on her hand. "I had the worst dream last night and I just can't seem to forget it."

Maya grabbed a spoon and started to eat her oats directly out of the glass jar she'd made them in.

"Oh, is it the one where you found out that Forest Meyers is actually just Farkle?" She asked casually, trying not to seem too bothered by the news herself.

"Yes!" Riley exclaimed, slamming her fist down on the table. The cutlery trembled in their places before falling still again.

It was only a split-second later that she realised something was off, and she slowly grew horrified.

"It wasn't a dream, was it?" She mumbled, closing her eyes in vexation.

Maya shook her head. "I'm sorry, Riles. Not unless you cooked up the whole story you told me last night."

She waited a while for the brunette to say something, but when she didn't, she prodded her gently. "Do you…want to talk about it?"

Riley's eyebrows knitted together into a tight frown as she slowly eased herself back against the chair. This wasn't something that she could instantaneously feel better about just by venting her frustrations. In fact, the only person who could help her with that was Farkle, but she certainly wasn't going to find him for answers any time soon.

She knew that Maya probably had own questions regarding the matter, but she could also count on her to respect her decision to avoid the subject for at least a couple more days till she was ready to confront it.

"No," Riley finally answered. "Not yet. But –"

She picked up a sealed envelope from beside her and placed it on the table between them. "–I went to take a peek at the mailbox this morning and guess whose letter we received?"

Maya glanced at the return address written on the back before breaking out into a grin. "I can't believe Rosaria remembered us."

"Not us. _You_ ," Riley smiled. "Go on, open it!"

Maya carefully slid a fingernail under the flap and sliced the envelope open, retrieving a little photograph and a folded letter from within. She held up the picture first, which was that of a little baby boy – only a few days old – bundled up tightly in a blue blanket. His eyes were a brilliant grey, while his mouth was stretched open into a tiny yawn.

"Aww," Riley giggled as she caressed the baby's cheeks. "This must be Rosaria's son."

"Yeah…" Maya trailed off, her gaze softening as she took in the sight of him, staring up at her with the same sort of innocent and loving wide-eyed wonder as another once did.

A rush of pain suddenly filled her chest, and she quickly set the photograph down, not wanting to get carried away by her feelings.

Seeing how nervous Maya had suddenly become, Riley touched the girl's shoulder and gave her an encouraging smile. She didn't have a clue as to what happened the night at the hospital, but whatever the case, a special bond had no doubt been established between the two women during the few hours they were there.

"You don't have to share it with me," Riley said gently, gesturing towards the letter that Maya was now holding in her hand.

However, all that did was to strengthen Maya's resolve.

"I want to," the blonde replied firmly, drawing courage from Riley's presence as she started to unfold the letter, smudged black in certain areas from where the ink had splotched.

Sucking in a deep breath, she proceeded to read it out loud.

"Hi Maya, I hope that this doesn't come as too much of a surprise. I was wondering how best to thank you for your help and eventually figured that a heartfelt letter and an adorable picture of my son would suffice, so I got your address from Zay.

"We've named my child Noah, after his grandfather, and while he isn't the most obedient child, he's probably the best thing that has ever happened to me. Cliché, I know, but you would understand where I'm coming from once you're in a similar position.

"My husband and I are eternally grateful to you and your friends, so if you lot are ever in Texas, please drop by and pay us a visit. I'm sure Matt and Noah would love to meet you too.

"That aside, I think I finally know why you were so quick to react that night, staying so calm while everyone else was either too stunned or panicked to do something. From one mother to another –"

There was an abrupt silence as Maya shot her head up to look at Riley. Without another word, she frantically crushed the letter into a ball and hurled it to the other side of the room where it ricocheted off a wall.

"What the heck did I just read?" Maya demanded.

"I-I think she knows," Riley answered, her mouth agape in shock. "What are we going to do, Maya?"

The girl stared blankly into space. There had only ever been one option right from the very beginning.

"Nothing," she whispered, "we do nothing, and we forget."

Again.

* * *

 _A/N_ _: Hey guys! I hope you all enjoyed this little update :) Maya's story line is back in action and over the course of the next few chapters, we'll be delving right into it (with a hearty dose of riarkle on the side, of course!) But I guess this is just a heads up that more focus will be placed on Maya, Lucas, Josh and Zay for a while, which I hope ya'll will like as well!_

 _In response to **ranguren-chan** 's question, Farkle has completely _no idea _how big a fan Riley is of Forest Meyer's work. He didn't have a clue then, and he doesn't have a clue now (since the email she sent him was on behalf of TNC and not a personal fan letter). And that's one of the reasons why he so carelessly revealed his identity to her in the first place. Well, that and the fact that he just couldn't stop himself from seeking out her sunshine._

 _But anyway, you know the drill - feel free to leave a review and let me know what you think! c:_

 _I'll see you in the next one!_


	17. Chapter 17

**17**

 **Summer 2020**

 **New York**

The atmosphere in the waiting area of the blood donation centre was bristled with quiet anticipation. It wasn't difficult to differentiate between the regulars and newcomers – the latter usually squirmed uncomfortably in their seats, while the rest simply waited like they would for an order of coffee.

Now that it was their third visit here, Riley and Maya fell into the former group as one of the few who donated blood each time summer rolled around. It'd started out as a thing of mere curiosity for Riley, eventually turning into a yearly tradition when she realised how miraculous it was, for one's blood to course through another's veins and breathe life.

And while Maya just got pulled along the first time, the fact that she was a universal donor drew her back again and again with each passing year.

The two were stuck waiting for their turn at the mini-physical; Riley reading, and Maya watching her read. The brunette had been unsurprisingly lacklustre over the last couple of days ever since she'd quarrelled with Farkle, and that left her bright doe eyes duller than usual and her lips pressed into a perpetually thin line.

It was all very infuriating for Maya, who'd never seen Riley and Farkle last an hour of ignoring each other without running back with apologies bursting at the top of their lungs. But things were different this time around. The stakes were higher, and she thought she finally knew why.

"So when are you going to start speaking to him again?" Maya asked, crossing her right leg over her left.

Riley wedged a little bookmark between the pages she was cut off at and closed the book with a soft _thud_. Her eyes were firm and determined as she replied, "when he realises what he's done wrong and starts fighting for Smackle."

"I don't think that's ever going to happen," Maya said bluntly.

If there was one thing Farkle was not, it was fickle. Just like Riley, it would take far more than a little threat to change his mind once it'd been made up. This had been proving right thus far, although Maya wasn't so sure how the boy would hold up after a couple more days; especially, _especiall_ y, when the thing at stake was his friendship with Riley.

"It will," the girl was almost adamant.

But Maya shook her head in disagreement.

"It won't. And actually, I think you're just trying to throw him the responsibility for your own feelings," she stated, not bothering to sugar coat her words.

This startled Riley, causing her to lift her gaze to Maya as her lips parted. The Matthews always had the tendency to save their asses before thinking through what the other party had said, but probably realising that she couldn't argue her way out, Riley closed her mouth and looked back down at her hands.

So Maya was right. Riley Matthews liked Farkle, and not so much in the platonic sense of the word.

"I guess there's no point in hiding it anymore," Riley shrugged helplessly. "At least not from you."

Maya dipped her head so she could look Riley in the eyes. "So that's what all this has been about," she murmured in fascination, "you pushing Farkle back to Smackle because you're afraid that if he doesn't –"

"I'll go down forever as the girl who caused her two friends to break up," Riley finished, hands outstretched.

"I don't get it. Why would _you_ be the one breaking them up? If anything, aren't you trying to get them back together despite your feelings for him?"

Riley let out a little sigh. "He kissed me, Maya."

The blonde felt her jaw drop. Now _that_ she wasn't expecting at all. "Wait," she stopped her, "when on earth did that happen?!"

"At the graduation party," Riley answered with a deep breath. "Farkle was drunk and I was…tipsy, and we got dragged into a game of Seven Minutes in Heaven. Before I knew it, he'd kissed me. When I finally came to my senses I just pushed him away and went straight home. I tried looking for you too, but I couldn't find you anywhere."

Maya cast her a guilty look. That was because she'd been in one of the upstairs bedroom losing her virginity to Lucas. She was certain that her friends had connected the dots when she turned up at the airport the next day in one of his old flannel shirts.

But Riley didn't wait for her to respond before she continued.

"I actually enjoyed the kiss, Maya," she said, shaking her head in frustration. "And I hate myself for even thinking that. But every time I look at him I get this crazy feeling in my stomach and I'm just afraid that he might subconsciously like me too. _That's_ why I'm pushing him away. _That's_ why I'm trying to get him back with Smackle. I could never live with myself knowing that I might be the cause for their break-up and not do anything to stop it."

A pang of hurt surged through Maya upon seeing Riley so distressed. However, finding out that her best friends might have feelings for one another wasn't that much of a shock. She'd always noticed the way they looked at each other; sharing little glances during classes or across hallways, and passing meaningful smiles that contained a thousand words heard yet unsaid.

She used to brush them off, but then it became pretty much impossible for anyone to stop themselves from getting caught in the crossfire of not-so-secret stares and smiles. By the end of high school, the truth had become clear to almost everyone but the two.

"Did you ever think that they might have broken up because there was a problem between them and not because of you?" Maya asked.

Smackle was smart and incredibly perceptive. If there was anyone who could catch on to Riley and Farkle's growing feelings, it would be her. She must have known that Farkle and her were better off as friends; if not now, then in the future. That was probably why she had been so quick to end things with him once her parents came into the picture. It would be an easy excuse, a good cover up for the real reason she did it.

 _God,_ Maya thought as the puzzle pieces started to click inside her head.

"Maya," Riley repeated her name for the second time as she snapped the girl out from her thoughts.

"Oh, uh, what?" She looked up at Riley, who had already risen from her seat.

"They called my number," Riley let out a little smile. She seemed slightly relaxed now that the truth had been let out of the bag. "We'll talk later okay? I'll see you out there."

Maya waved. "Hopefully they let you take home that stress ball again."

"I think it might be purple this time," Riley chuckled, giving the girl's hand a squeeze. "We'll see."

After watching her disappear behind one of the white doors, Maya returned to ponder over their predicament, trying to think of a way that she could get the three of them out unscathed. Unfortunately, she still hadn't managed to arrive at a conclusion by the time it came for her check-up.

Resting her case for the time being, she stood up in a hurry, and that was when the first wave of dizziness struck her.

* * *

"Your blood pressure's a lot lower than usual," the woman said to Maya as they both peered at the column of mercury on the sphygmomanometer.

She was comparing her current results to previous data that had been keyed into the system during past visits.

The woman questioned, "when did your last period end?"

Maya's mouth shot open to give a confident answer, only to close again when she realised the disparity between what she wanted to say and the fact that was this –

"My period's late," she murmured, confused.

There were two things she could always be sure of in life, and that would be Riley Matthews, and her period; which had never failed to come on the 21st of every month since it first made its appearance five years ago.

A good three weeks had passed since the day it should've arrived, and the sudden knowledge of its absence brought about an apprehension that left a tight knot in her stomach.

The woman, whose name tag read Cynthia, gave Maya an understanding look.

"This happens more often than you know, Miss Hart," she started. "Some women come here to give a donation only to wind up leaving with the fear, or excitement, that they might be pregnant."

Maya blinked at her arm, still strapped on to the cuff. She'd taken extra precautions leading up to her first time – used a condom; made sure to take the morning-after pill. Surely this was a trick of mind made to guilt-trip her into confessing the deed to her mother and Shawn. Or, on second thought, maybe _not Shawn_ , for he would thrash the world upside down before charging after Lucas.

"It is advisable that you take a pregnancy test before we allow you to undergo a blood donation," Cynthia said. "We don't want to be liable for you or the baby's health."

The woman was already talking like she was really pregnant.

Maya could barely process the words through the roaring of her blocked ears. It was like someone had stuck their fingers in them such that all she could hear now was the _whoosh_ of obstructed airflow.

"Miss Hart?" Cynthia pressed, carefully removing the cuff. It left an imprint of two red streaks that ran across her arm.

Maya blinked again before slowly raising her head to look at the woman. She drew her hand back and slung her bag across her shoulder.

"Where's the nearest convenience store?" She asked, rising to her feet so quickly that another wave of dizziness hit her, almost sending her back onto the seat.

A concerned expression started to form on Cynthia's face. She gulped. "It's uh, two stores to the right from here."

"Thanks," Maya managed, steadying herself against the chair for a moment before striding out the room and down the hallway through which she first entered.

Riley had most likely been done with her blood test and was already hooked up to the machine, but the brunette was the least of Maya's concerns at the moment. All she could think about was how there might be a living, growing human inside of her and how she had to find out if that was true.

Suddenly, it was as if all the weird sensations she'd been experiencing the last couple of weeks finally made sense; from the slight soreness in her breasts to her unusual nausea whenever she rode on a car or bus.

But she didn't want them to make sense. She hated that she'd landed herself in a position where her future – previously clear and certain – was now hazy and unsettled.

Maya dashed into the convenience store and headed straight for the medicine isle, where a long row of different pregnancy test kits sat waiting to be picked. She swiped the most expensive one – the higher the price, the more accurate it had to be, right? – before going to the cashier and slamming a twenty-dollar bill on the counter.

The cashier looked up at her, surprised.

"Keep the change," Maya said, and then she made her way to the back toilet, hope dimly flickering as she prepared herself for the worst.

* * *

Maya had fallen off the face of the earth.

The last time Riley had seen her was when they were waiting for their mini-physical, and now that her blood donation was over, the blonde was still nowhere to be found. They'd always sat side by side whilst getting their blood drawn, but today, Riley was placed next to a chatty middle-aged lady – not that she minded; it just wasn't the same.

Her heart was feeling a little lighter now that she had one less person to hide her feelings for Farkle from. Strangely, Maya didn't even seem all that surprised when she found out about it. But because this secret was no longer kept privy to only herself, it made her feelings for Farkle a whole lot more real; something serious that was no longer possible to avoid.

A tinge of pain flashed across her just thinking about him, causing her to shove it down as she took her phone out to text Maya. And while she walked and typed and finally sent the message out, a soft ' _bing!'_ was suddenly heard from her general direction.

Riley raised her head to see Maya, whose bottom lip was trembling and her eyes glossy with tears that had yet to spill over.

She made a rush towards Maya, but then stopped short upon seeing the stick that was held to her side in a tight, balled-up fist. The stick was angled in such a way that no one else but the person standing right before her could see it – a small white sunken window which displayed two thin strips of red that ran from one edge to the other: _positive_.

It took Riley several seconds to put two and two together.

"Oh, Maya," she finally said in a low voice.

Maya attempted to blink back her fear, but instead, the action caused a single teardrop to slide down her cheek. She passed a quick hand over it.

"No one can know," she said softly.

Riley's heart plummeted down to her stomach. She didn't know what to do. For once, the girl who could always be counted on to have a solution up her sleeves came out empty-handed, and all she found herself offering was to be an anchor; a weight to hold them down and tide them through whatever the hell life was hurling their way.

She took a step forward and pulled Maya into a hug, pressing the girl's head firmly against her shoulder as she tried to squeeze it all away, away, away.

"No one needs to know," Riley whispered into Maya's ear, running a hand up and down her back.

This was going to stay between them – for now.

* * *

 _A/N: Hey guys! Hope ya'll enjoyed the chapter :) If it had been unclear at the start, well, this just basically 99.9% confirms that Maya did get pregnant! So good on you, if you managed to guess that right!_

 _In response to **clairedaring's** question: Yes, we will definitely get around to that moment, just not anytime soon. And I'd say that Riley was slightly intoxicated, but still sober enough to be aware of what was happening when Farkle had kissed her._

 _As always, let me know what you think by leaving a review! Thanks for all the support you've been giving so far and I'll see you during the next update c:_


	18. Chapter 18

**18**

 **Summer 2023**

 **New York**

Whenever Riley couldn't think straight, she cleaned.

She'd start from the living room, polishing her way through vases and photo frames before dusting the couch and moving on to the bay window. There, she fluffed the cushions and wiped the glass panels free of dirt and grime. Then, she would work towards her bedroom, neatening up the place just as her mind attempted to declutter the chaos within.

This Friday evening, the messes that she sought to tidy were these – the task given to her by _The New Collective_ , as well as the enigma that was Forest Meyers (a.k.a. Farkle Minkus? a.k.a. _That Lying Asshole_ ).

Those two things – which should have been kept separate – had been intertwined by her idiotic idea to involve the latter in the magazine's summer-end event, and look where that had taken her.

Not only was she stuck in a rut, but she also had to grapple with the fact that her maybe-crush was not who she really thought he was. She wanted to give Farkle a chance to explain himself, and yet a part of her was afraid of becoming increasingly disillusioned with the splintered image she already had of her former inspiration.

She vehemently scooped up the books from her table and returned them to their empty slots in the shelf; she watered the little succulents blooming by her window and made her bed; she threw a week's worth of dirty clothing into the laundry basket and placed it outside her door so she wouldn't forget to do them.

And still, while her room had become neat and tidy, the recesses of her mind remained the exact opposite.

She was about to throw in the towel and conclude that it was time to change her coping methods when she recalled one last item that she had yet to unpack.

It was the yellow structured bag that Riley had brought along with her to Texas. With all that occurred over the past week, she'd been too tired to remove her belongings. So she now retrieved the bag from where it hung at the back of the door and unzipped it, fishing out the first object that jutted out amongst her other loose valuables.

To Riley's surprise, she found herself blinking at the photobook that Josh had given her; the one filled from start to end with Forest's pictures. It'd completely slipped her mind that she owned one of these – _if there were actually even more in publication,_ she thought.

The purpose that first drove her to fetch the bag melted away as she walked to her bed and sat down with the book. Its white-washed covers stared up at her the same way it did when she first received it, but this time, Riley's feelings towards it had changed. No longer did she harbour fascination or excitement for its contents, but rather, dread alongside a tinge of curiosity.

She started to turn its pages, eyes taking in each picture – from the ones saturated with life and colour to those that fell on the grimmer end of the spectrum. Either way, they still managed to evoke emotions from her; one of which was annoyance at the fact that she couldn't stop herself from feeling said emotions.

Riley wasn't even sure if the photographs had been taken by Farkle himself. He never once expressed any interest in photography before, and if it had really been him who took those pictures, she couldn't help but wonder how that came to be.

Just then, her fingers snagged on a sheet of folded paper that had been wedged between two pages midway through the book. She thought it was a receipt at first, but then noticed the indentations where a pen had pressed hard against it, feeling somewhat like braille when her hand brushed across them.

Puzzled, Riley picked the paper up and unfolded it to be greeted by a long note written in messy – but legible – handwriting. Her gaze sailed to the very top of the letter, where the first two words read:

 _Dear Riley,_

The girl's grip on the paper loosened. The letter was addressed to _her_. Curiosity now gnawing away, she continued ahead.

 _If you're reading this, then it probably means that your uncle has done his job in passing this book to you. But before you start hunting the man down for answers – no, he wasn't privy to any of this. His documentary was being screened at a local cinema and I merely decided to use him as a platform to get my message across._

 _Farkle has shared many stories about your group of friends with me, and I can hear from the way he speaks that you meant – and still mean – a great deal to him. That's why I've decided to reach out to you instead of the others._

 _I'm here to make a request. I don't know what exactly happened that caused the two of you to drift apart, but I hope that you can put whatever it is aside to help Farkle find himself again. It is not my place to tell you who he's become or the kind of troubles he has been experiencing, but I think it would do him much benefit if he had someone like you to rely on through these tough times._

 _If you are anything like the girl he describes you to be, I remain confident that you will at least consider this. And maybe, if things turn out well, Farkle will bring you to meet me one day._

 _Just remember this – Farkle is still the same boy you knew since childhood. He's just lost sight of who he is, and you might very well be the only person who can remind him of that._

 _So please, Miss Matthews, do give this a thought._

 _Yours truly,_

 _A (concerned) friend of Farkle's_

 _P.S. I'm not really one for bribing but hopefully this photobook of Forest Meyers will do_

 _P.P.S There's no return address for a reason_

Riley read the letter again. And then she read it a third time. She read it repeatedly until the words didn't make any sense and became no more than random scribbles on a piece of paper. She wasn't sure what to make of this – if it was a prank or a real plea for help.

 _Who was this even from?_

Yet somehow, a part of her couldn't get over the fact that Farkle actually told others about them; shared stories about the fun adventures the five of them used to have – six, if she included Smackle. It reminded her again of how much he must've missed them; how much she missed _him_.

Hadn't that been the whole reason why she decided to make amends with him at the wedding? Because she'd been rash and stupid in cutting off all ties with him and therefore wanted to make up for it? By chasing him away once more – by not giving him a chance to speak – wasn't she going down the same road she'd just returned from?

A hundred questions still swirled inside her head, leaving her even more cluttered and disorganised than when she had first started cleaning. But unlike before, wherein her thoughts spun and wreaked havoc at equal frequencies, there was finally one that stood out from the rest – bold, calm and clear:

Riley was quite done being a hypocrite.

She shoved the book back inside her bag together with the letter, and shrugged on a green military vest over her striped dress shirt to disguise the fact that she actually hadn't been planning on leaving the house this evening.

"Maya!" Riley called as she marched with newfound purpose towards the front door. "I'm –"

She swivelled her head to survey their cosy apartment, which was quiet and empty, and certainly not occupied by any blondes at the moment. She'd nearly forgotten; Maya wasn't coming back till late at night; she was out on a date with Josh.

"Right," Riley muttered as she readjusted the yellow bag on her forearm.

Then, she slipped out of the house and into the hopeful night.

* * *

With Stuart having flown over to D.C. for a business trip, the Minkuses' fortress was absent of their king. In place of him was his son, who stayed mostly in his bedroom – not bound, but not completely free either.

Farkle didn't understand why he was finding it so hard to leave New York. Not only was the party over, but Riley had also made it pretty clear that he was unwelcomed here. There was nothing left keeping him from returning to the home he'd forged for himself in Boston. And yet, he couldn't stand to just up and leave after wreaking so much havoc in the one night he'd been here.

It was only after he'd gone home and lay in bed, unable to fall asleep, that he saw the rashness and lack of accountability in his actions. The boy he was before wouldn't have done that, and just the thought of this warped perversion made him feel worse.

It wasn't that Farkle hadn't meant each and every word he said to his father; he _did_. But if he could turn back time, he would have at least had the decency to stay on; if not for the sake of the company, then at least for his mother.

He couldn't even bear to look her in the eyes now, knowing how disappointed she was. And the worst part was probably that she didn't even blame him for lashing out; she'd read his actions as a product of her and Stuart's deteriorating marriage.

Farkle aggressively scraped the leftover crumbs of his dinner into the dustbin before scrubbing the plate clean with a soapy sponge at the kitchen sink. It had become an unspoken agreement between Mrs Sanders and the Minkuses that the latter do their own dishes after dinner. It was a win-win situation; she could leave work earlier in the evenings while the family got their daily dose of _look, I know you're bajillionaires, but you still can't get away with being human_.

However, since it was usually only Farkle or Jennifer who were at home to do that, its humbling effects were pretty much limited to the two.

From where Farkle stood, he could hear the gushing of water against the tiled bath tub; a sound which was abruptly silenced when his mother closed the door to her bedroom upstairs. This triggered a jolt of realisation in his head –

He'd stayed partly because he didn't want to leave her in this house all alone.

Farkle allowed this fact to settle in his stomach as he started for his bedroom, but the sound of the doorbell suddenly buzzing through the air stopped him in his tracks. Very rarely did they get visitors so late at night. But then again, he hadn't been around much over the past three years; 'very rarely' could have changed.

He walked towards the door and looked at the rectangular monitor beside it, which displayed a real-time feed of whoever was standing outside. It was Riley Matthews, rocking nervously on the balls of her feet as she waited for someone to answer the door.

Farkle knew who he was seeing, but he just couldn't believe his eyes. He squinted closer just to make sure that it was really her, and as the brunette raised her head to ring the doorbell a second time, he caught the pressed dimples of her cheeks; the soft curve of her dainty nose, and her large, brown eyes blinking up expectantly.

His memory kicked into replay the moment he left her at _The Sundown Shack_. Anger made it so easy to leave. But now he knew that anger was really only a trap that lured him into making decisions he'd regret, because after his impassioned exit, all he found himself being was stranded; lost in a sea of consequences brought upon by impulse.

Farkle was more heart than brain these days, whereas in the past it used to be that he was more brain than heart.

When he opened the door a second later and saw the person he'd just seen through the monitor screen, he felt it – it was all heart.

Riley looked up at him, startled, like a part of her wasn't sure if he'd answer. But then her tight-lipped smile appeared and she said, "so, you're still pretty fond of alter egos, huh?"

Farkle took a split-second to grab onto a mental foothold. He wasn't sure if she'd meant that in a bitter way, but neither did it sound like a joke. It seemed rehearsed, like she had been repeating the phrase over and over again in her head on her way here. Perhaps it was a light-hearted truth; the only way she could voice out her sense of betrayal and still come across amicable.

"I – uh –" the boy stammered, not knowing how to respond. He stiffly gestured for her to enter the house. "Come in," he said.

The girl took a couple of steps forward before turning back to face him, her expression still unreadable.

"First Donnie Barnes, now this," she said, gesturing in his direction.

 _This;_ Forest Meyers – a pseudonym for someone cool, someone whom Farkle could never be.

Riley released a breath and looked towards him, the tension in her shoulders sinking. "But then again," she mused, "I used to be pretty fond of alter egos, too."

She meant Morotio M. Black, Jexica and countless other characters she'd adopted over the years before she finally stopped. Riley was no stranger to the art of crafting identities herself.

"What I'm saying is, I'm sorry. For lashing out the way I did. It was wrong of me to have just beat you down like that without first asking what was wrong. I didn't know what you were going through at that point in time and neither do I know now, so I'm sorry. Will you forgive me?"

Farkle said the first thing that popped into his mind. "And will you please stop apologizing?"

Riley tore her gaze away from him. "Okay," she bit her lip. "Sorry."

It was a second later that she realised she'd apologised again, and they stood awkwardly in silence for a couple of moments before Farkle finally asked, "coffee?"

"Yes please," Riley immediately answered, looking relieved.

She followed Farkle towards the kitchen, her eyes wandering around the house as she passed through the living room. She turned down the hall and avoided the sharp corners of tables and shelves before she even noticed them. Her muscle memory could still recall everything as they had been before.

When they arrived at the kitchen, Farkle pulled out a chair at the bar counter for her to sit on. She did so without protest and rested her head on her hands as she watched him work the _Nespresso_ machine.

"Still _Roma_?" He asked, holding up a black capsule between his fingers.

The girl nodded, and a minute later, he sat down across from her with two piping hot cups of coffee.

Farkle wasn't sure what suddenly motivated Riley to make the trip down to his apartment, but he decided to take it as a sign that the universe was giving him a chance to make amends with her – for good this time. He nearly scoffed out loud. Unseen forces of the universe; fate – all things which didn't have any scientific explanation whatsoever. His old self would have been sceptical of that, but the person he was now (whoever _that_ would be) willingly bent to its wishes and latched onto the opportunities that it presented.

Farkle looked down as he stirred his drink. "You know, I should have been the one apologizing instead."

"I think it's safe to say that the both of us were in the wrong," Riley corrected with a smile.

She seemed to be growing more relaxed, which Farkle was glad for, considering that he had no idea what he was doing.

"I just want you to know that I'm sorry as well," he said.

"Guess we have something in common to talk about," Riley replied heavily.

He could feel it in her words – every last shred of guilt she'd held with her resided in them.

Was that it, then? Did this mean they could start their friendship anew? No, not quite. It was going to take a while before things returned back to normal. The upside was that they were beginning to forge their way there.

"I wasn't sure if you'd still be in New York," Riley admitted. "Why haven't you gone back to Boston?"

Farkle shrugged. "It just didn't feel right to leave."

The girl gave him a long, hard look before unclasping her hands from around the coffee mug to retrieve a book from her bag. She placed it in front of him, the cover blank and white.

"I promise I won't freak out this time," she assured him before asking, "are you really Forest Meyers?"

Farkle hesitated for a moment. Now that he was more aware of the choice that stood before him, he realised that telling Riley the truth would mean sharing a part of himself that he'd carefully constructed over the last few years. It felt personal, intimate. But he also knew that if there was anyone he had to tell about this, it would be her.

"Yes," he answered abashedly. "I'm really sorry I didn't tell you about it sooner."

"No, it's fine!" Riley's hands shot out in earnest. "Obviously this isn't something you can announce to the whole world about after keeping it a secret for years. It's a big deal! But I guess it's just weird knowing that Forest is you. Or that you're him."

"Really?" Farkle asked before he could stop himself.

"I mean, I've loved your photographs ever since you started publishing them," Riley said with a tinge of embarrassment. "So it's a little hard for me to come to terms with the fact that this mysterious man and _you_ are basically the same person."

A look of amusement started to creep over his face, and upon seeing this, she quickly added, "don't worry, though. I'll get used to it soon."

Farkle had always kept his being Forest Meyers a secret between only himself and his mentor, so he never really knew what to expect of those who found out about it. But here Riley was, telling him that she'd been a fan of his work since the very beginning, and somehow this caused him to find humour in the situation.

He smiled. "I think I better start getting used to you knowing about this, too."

"But I'm not the only one who knows, am I?" Riley suddenly asked, the question rolling out so quickly that it sounded like it had been on the tip of her tongue the entire time.

Their conversation had taken a sudden turn that left him unsettled. But before Farkle could say anything, she patted the book in front of him and drew his attention back to it.

He nodded towards the book. "What's that?" He asked.

"I thought you'd know. It _is_ yours, after all."

"No it isn't," Farkle scrunched his nose in confusion; he'd never seen it in his entire life.

Looking to Riley for permission, Farkle proceeded to flip the book open and was greeted by the sight of his photographs, leaping out at him from every page. There were those which he'd submitted to _The New Collective_ , but there were also many of which he hadn't shared with a single soul except for –

"Greg," he said aloud, just as his gaze landed on a slip of paper tucked between the pages of the book.

"Is that who he is?" Riley asked. "I found the letter while cleaning out my bag. It says that it was written by a friend of yours, so I'm assuming that's him. Does that mean this-this Greg knows who you are, too?"

Farkle avoided her question as he scanned the contents of the letter. His eyebrows were knitted into a tight frown by the time he'd reach the end. He looked Riley straight in the eyes, his gaze firm.

The girl had trusted him enough to divulge the reason behind her appearance at his doorstep, but he suddenly felt so vulnerable; stripped bare even before he decided to tell her anything about his problems at home. It wasn't that he was afraid of being pitied by Riley; he knew she wouldn't ever view him that way.

He just wished she didn't have to find out about his situation at home like this, wished that she hadn't been pushed into coming here by guilt. He was also considerably mad at Greg for having schemed behind his back even if it had been to help him.

"Is this why you came to visit me?" He asked, flipping the letter over.

Sensing a sudden tension, Riley chose her words carefully.

"It was one of the reasons," she said slowly, "but I'd already planned on doing so before this. The letter just gave me the push I needed to make that decision tonight."

Farkle rubbed his temples as he considered what to say. He was like an open book now. Almost.

"Thanks for your honesty," he managed.

"What's going on, Farkle?" Riley asked, cocking her head to one side as she usually did when she was concerned.

He didn't know if she was referring to Greg or his 'troubles'. Maybe she was referring to both. Either way, he decided to address the issue of the former first.

"Greg's a guy I met when I moved to Boston. He's the one who introduced me to photography, taught me how it worked. He's also the only other person who knows I'm Forest apart from you," Farkle told her.

Riley appeared thoughtful. "So he's the one wrote this letter? And compiled this photobook?"

Farkle grimaced. "Most unfortunately."

"Well I'm glad he did," Riley let out a little smile. "If it wasn't for him I wouldn't have come here today. And he's gutsy to have reached out to me like that. He seems pretty cool already."

"He's forty-five, Riley," Farkle replied irritably.

The girl shot him a look. "You know what I mean. And besides, he's worried about you! I just don't get why you won't let anyone care for you," she snapped, only to fall silent upon realising how agitated she'd gotten again.

She took a moment to compose herself.

"He isn't getting anything out of this other than your own happiness," she said, her tone gentle but final.

This caused Farkle to shift uncomfortably in his seat. "I know."

"Well good. That's about half the battle won, then."

The conversation came to a pause for a minute or two as Riley attempted to digest this new set of information while Farkle wondered how he should respond to Greg's cunning. He was still annoyed with him, but he also knew that the feeling would soon pass.

Riley was the one who broke the quiet first.

"What happened with your family?" She asked softly, knowing that she was approaching a sensitive topic.

Farkle didn't know where to begin. It had been a long road leading down to this point.

"I'd rather not talk about it," he answered.

She gave him a no-nonsense look, one which was arguably softened by the silent plea in her eyes. "I've been a bad enough friend, Farkle. Please, in order to help you, I need to know."

The boy didn't put up much of a fight before he gave in. He trusted her, and likewise, she trusted him to have enough faith in her.

Farkle took a sip of coffee to ready himself. He tried to piece the words together to explain things as simply as they were. But when he opened his mouth to speak, all that came out were metaphors and analogies – ways in which he could detach himself and avoid emotional pitfalls while still talking about it.

Still, Riley watched him intently, her mind quick to unravel the flowery images he'd planted in her head.

"When you're so close to the top, your fear of falling increases. You become afraid that you've hit a glass ceiling where the possibilities look endless when really, that's just it. So you start doing more and more to drive that fear away, until –" Farkle closed his eyes and recalled the words his mother had used to describe it. "–Until you lose sight of everything else that already surrounds you."

He could feel Riley's eyes on him, but he didn't dare to look up. He felt that if he did, the weight of everything would come crashing down on his shoulders. And yet here was help in the form of Riley Matthews – human embodiment of sunshine; warder of dark clouds and lightning storms.

He watched as she extended her hand out to him and placed it on his arm. Her palm was instantly soothing, like a warm cloth pressed against a damp forehead.

"Let's go somewhere next week," she suggested.

Her offer hung between them like a thread.

Farkle finally looked up, surprised. "Where?" He asked.

A smile spread across Riley's face.

"Somewhere the darkness can't chase you."

* * *

Unlike her husband, Jennifer Bassett Minkus made certain she got enough sleep each night. Her routine consisted of taking a warm bath, followed by a leisurely read in the library. Then by 11, she would make her way back to her room and prepare for bed.

Tonight was different.

As she walked towards the master bedroom from the library, she noticed that the first floor was still awash with light. It was usually dark at this hour, save for a handful of well-placed spotlights illuminating the rooms just enough to prevent anyone from falling over. Soft murmurings of chatter floated up and piqued her curiosity. Very rarely did they get visitors so late into the night.

Careful not to make herself heard, the woman descended a few steps down the stairs until she was able to peek a glance at the open kitchen to her right.

Farkle and Riley were sitting across from each other at the bar counter, talking away in hushed tones. There was something about the scene that reminded Jennifer of the many instances Riley came over to their house. They'd be doing homework or playing video games in his bedroom; sometimes she came after a long day of school to simply admire the planetarium stretched across the expanse of his ceiling.

Regardless, they would always end up as such – deep in conversation; stuck in their own little bubble until someone else came along to burst it.

Jennifer made certain that someone was never her. She took heart in the sight of them huddled just outside the line of reality, where nothing stayed impossible. Farkle always had a soft spot for Riley, and she never failed to make him smile even when he was at his saddest. Together, their friendship moved mountains.

A little chuckle escaped Farkle's lips and sailed up the stairs to where Jennifer stood. It was a change from his forced smiles and laughter, honed well to be indistinguishable by outsiders, but not enough for his mother to recognise that they weren't genuine.

However, she could see that the boy was in good hands tonight, and so there she left him in peace.

* * *

 _A/N: Hi guys! Now that was a massive chapter! Thanks for sticking by long enough to see the riarkle ship (finally) set sail a couple of metres. In the next one, we'll be returning to Maya's arc for good, so there's that to look forward to. If you enjoyed this update, I hope you leave a review and let me know what you think c: I'll see you soon!_


	19. Chapter 19

**19**

 **Summer 2020**

 **New York**

Maya couldn't recall when she last spent so much time in her own home.

She had grown to favour afternoons at the Matthews, basking in the warmth and cosiness of their apartment for as long as she could before she had to leave for the day. Even when her quarrels with Riley saw her storming away from the house so she could simmer down, she never once returned home. She'd walk along the streets or sit on her favourite bench in the park till the sun set and the air grew colder, and then she would finally go.

At the Matthews, she was never alone – not even for a second – and she'd find herself being constantly fussed over by Cory and Topanga, something which she appreciated since her mother was much too busy to look out for herself, let alone her daughter.

However, that reason for her to stay had since turned into one that justified why she'd been avoiding the place like a plague ever since she found out she was pregnant. She didn't think she could stand acting perfectly fine amidst the bright smiles and questions of _'how was your day, Maya?'_

Because she was not okay. She was not fine.

She had a baby in her stomach, goddammit.

At about roughly five weeks pregnant, Maya's stomach was still relatively flat and unnoticeable. But she knew that she'd eventually reach a point where the bump would grow too big for her to hide, and till then, she had to do something about it.

Riley was doing a relatively good job at keeping this a secret, devoting herself over the past few days to help Maya come up with a plan. But all the girl really did was furtively skirt the edges of their options, refusing to reach any sort of solid conclusion. Maya saw this as her attempt to buy time, unwilling to admit to herself that the blonde was most likely going to choose the morally ambiguous option of those available:

Abortion.

As if Riley could hear her thoughts (a notion which was entirely plausible), she suddenly spoke up from where she was sitting on the floor.

"I think you should at least tell your mom."

Maya had expected her to say this, and was even quite surprised that she managed to hold it in for so long. Unfortunately, just because she managed to pre-empt it didn't mean she could quell the irritation that rose along with it.

She scoffed. "Yeah, and then she won't have a clue what to do so she'll just pass the burden along to your parents –"

"Who will gladly help you with it!" Riley said. "And you're not a burden, Maya. You've never been, and you never will be."

"You're right. I'm not," Maya said, looking downwards as she picked at a loose thread sticking out from a pillow cradled in her lap. "The baby is."

This brought Riley to an uneasy silence, a crease appearing between her eyebrows as the words slowly sunk in. Maya wondered what she was thinking, if she felt that it wasn't fair for an innocent, unborn child to be a cause of affliction before he or she was even born.

That was the difference between the two – Riley used he/she pronouns, while Maya simply used the word _it_. She realised at that moment how harsh she had probably sounded.

Maya got off her bed and planted herself opposite Riley to close the gap between them. The brunette merely looked at her, still rendered speechless by her honest brutality.

"Do you remember watching _Love, Rosie_?" Maya finally asked, searching for some way she could get the girl to understand a semblance of what she was going through.

"It was a nice romance," Riley muttered.

Maya shook her head; that wasn't the point.

"The girl – Rosie – she had a whole life ahead of her, a bright future. And all that had to be shoved aside because she got pregnant and chose to keep the baby. Her dreams of going to _Boston University_ and studying what she loves, gone, in that single decision. That might be _me_ , Riles."

"But she realized it in the end," Riley was quick to point out. "She started her own hotel."

"Yes, but it's all just part of the Hollywood glamour. Tell me, in which non-sugar-coated reality does the girl manage to give birth to a baby, get an education, snag her dream job and even keep the guy at the end of the day?"

" _This_ reality, Maya," Riley jabbed a finger towards the floor. "The future's still unwritten. A baby's not going to change things unless you decide that it's going to."

Maya loved Riley's optimism; she loved how she could always count on her to look on the bright side and find hope even when life was bleak. But at times like this, she felt that Riley's perception could get stunted to the point of suffocation, making it seem like Maya's thoughts were wrong and cynical while hers were always right.

Maya wasn't being pessimistic. She was simply a realist, and right now she was doing everything she could to keep down the words that she wanted to spit out:

 _Stop trying to fix people! Look how well that turned out for you and Farkle_ _?_

She herded those thoughts to the back of her mind and remained quiet.

Meanwhile, Riley shot a glance at her watch to check the time. She cleared her throat and said, "look, my shift at _Topanga's_ is starting soon. I have to go."

Maya nodded.

In the process of standing up, Riley got to her knees and scooped Maya's hands into her own, forcing the girl to meet her gaze.

"Promise me you won't do anything rash," she said earnestly. "We'll think of something together. We will."

Maya knew how things would turn out if she listened. The longer they waited, the greater the likelihood that it would all just end with her letting the cat out of the bag. But that wasn't what she said to Riley. Instead, she smiled.

"I promise."

Riley gave her hand a squeeze before letting go. "Are you coming over this evening?" She asked, hopeful.

"Nope, I'll see you tomorrow, pumpkin."

Riley was careful not to let her disappointment show, but Maya could still hear it in the slight dip of her voice.

"Okay," she said. "Tomorrow, then."

Maya waited for Riley to leave the house – as announced by the sound of the door clicking shut – before getting up to her feet to lock it. She stood in place for several moments, allowing herself to lay a hand against her belly.

She felt nothing, and soon there would _be_ nothing, for all this would cease to exist, with the baby departing quietly into the abyss.

* * *

The afternoon sun blazed directly overhead as Maya stepped out of the clinic with a furtive look, eyes sweeping back and forth across the street to make sure there was no one she recognised in sight. She then hurried towards a little alley a few stores down, coming to a stop as she took a second to compose herself.

She leaned back against the brick wall, its rough surface hot even beneath the layers of her denim jacket and dress. Her palms were sweaty, the fingers on her right grabbing on tightly to a small white pill that was still encased within its blister pack. The doctor had given it to her, requesting that she swallowed it right there in the room with its walls covered by _Planned Parenthood_ posters and complicated text charts.

But she just couldn't bring herself to do it. The numbness that had seen her through the past few days following the revelation of her pregnancy had suddenly disappeared, replaced instead, with a frenzy of overwhelming emotions that clouded her judgement and pulled her in various directions. She couldn't pop the pill like that, not when she wasn't sure of what she wanted to do anymore.

The doctor had been extremely patient about it, probably having had years of experience with fickle and frightened girls such as herself who came on a whim looking for an easy way out.

She had given Maya a look of sympathy and asked, "did you meet our counsellor before this?"

"Yes."

"And she gave you all the details regarding how these pills work?"

"Yes."

"And she answered all the questions you had?"

"Yes."

"But you're not ready," she had stated this as a matter-of-fact.

Maya stared down at the round pill that the doctor had placed on her outstretched hand. It was mifepristone, a substance that blocked the hormones needed to maintain pregnancies. After she consumed that, she would then bring home a bottle of misoprostol, to be taken around a day later to seal the baby's fate.

All this she had already read online, factual and systematic enough for her to detach herself from the situation long enough to get it over and done with. At least, that was what she'd thought until she went for the ultrasound.

It was the first thing that Maya did upon entering the abortion clinic; a procedure meant to confirm that she was less than eight weeks pregnant, and nothing more. But what she hadn't expected was the surge of fear and awe that overcame her upon seeing the black-and-white image that had been flashed on the monitor before her –

The foetus wasn't entirely visible at this stage yet, about the size of a mere pen dot attached to the edge of the yolk sac. It was still an embryo, very early in its stage of development. However, that first glimpse of the baby was enough to remind her that what she had inside of her was real and existing, enough to throw her off-balance.

"The foetus is about 1/17th of an inch," the nurse had told her as she measured its statistics. "That puts you at around 5 weeks into pregnancy, well within the safe range for a medical abortion."

"Great," Maya had murmured, but there was no sense of relief in her voice where there should have been. She just couldn't tear her eyes off the little bump; it was so, so real.

Despite this, she still managed to soldier through her talk with the counsellor as well as the health review, convincing herself that this was what was needed to be done in order to reclaim the future she had worked so hard for. It was only when it came down to the act of consuming the pill that she'd hesitated, frozen, unable to do it. Inside, a part of her yelled ' _coward!_ '.

"Look," the doctor had finally said, placing a brown bottle filled with four tablets in front of her. "Why don't you bring both the mifepristone and misoprostol home with you? Take them when you're ready. Just remember to consume the ones in the bottle between 24 to 72 hours later."

Maya was grateful for this. She placed the bottle inside her bag but kept the single pill enclosed within her palm. "I will, thank you."

The doctor nodded. "This is a tough decision, and whatever you choose, you're going to have to bear with the consequences. It doesn't matter if you take the pills or flush them down the toilet. You've already paid for the medication. But your happiness is priceless, so be certain that you're making the right choice before it becomes final. Do what will give you the least regrets, and remember that there are many other options out there besides this. We'll be with you every step of the way."

"Thanks," Maya repeated, lifting her gaze to the doctor. She wondered how many girls had passed through this room, standing at the very crossroad she was at.

A couple of seconds passed between them before the doctor enquired, "so is there anything you would like to ask?"

"No," Maya had said, then quickly changed her mind. "I mean – yes. Can I go now?"

So there she was, standing in the alley, uncertain if she should take the pill right then. She didn't know what was stopping her; she'd been so sure that this was the path she wanted to take right up to the moment she saw the ultrasound, the first sign of evidence that there was really a tiny embryo residing in her womb.

But what was it, other than a ball of cells? Her eyes could trace no human form; it teetered on the edge between existing and not. This would be the best time to rid herself of it, before it had the chance to grow into something more. And yet, she couldn't. She didn't. She didn't know what she wanted.

Sighing, Maya pocketed the pill and turned to head back onto the street, only to crash into someone who was striding towards her. The force of the collision sent Maya stumbling backwards, but a strong arm wrapped reflexively around her waist, preventing her from falling to the ground. Another hand grabbed her elbow and yanked her back into a straightened posture, her eyes shooting up to meet steel blue.

She refocused her line of sight and found herself staring at Joshua Matthews, someone whom she didn't really see nowadays except during the holidays.

"You," she murmured the same moment he said, "Maya!"

Realising that he was still holding onto her, the girl shrugged his grip off like a coat and took a step back. Her heart leapt vicariously against her chest, but no longer for the same reasons it used to in the past. Did he know what she was in the area for?

"What are you doing here?" Maya asked almost accusatorily, regretting the question the second it left her mouth.

Josh raised an eyebrow. "I should be asking you the same question."

"I-I was just running some errands for my mom," Maya hastily replied, trying to keep her gaze level. Flitting eyes were a dead giveaway for nervousness.

"I see," Josh nodded. He appeared serious; worried, almost, which he tried to hide beneath his smile. "And you're done with that?" He asked, looking her up and down.

Maya's hand instinctively flew to her stomach, but quickly dropped back to her side as soon as she knew what she was doing. "Yeah, I'm about done," she replied, trying to feign nonchalance.

An alarm sounded in her head – she had to get out of here before she committed any more blunders. "You know what, it's great seeing you again, Josh, but I really have to go," she said as she attempted a sidestep.

However, the boy moved in the same direction and stopped her in her tracks. "You look like you haven't eaten," he said, which was indeed a fact. "I was just heading to a pretty good Mexican place for lunch. Do you want to go grab a bite? It'd be nice to know what you've been up to."

Maya crossed her arms. "Will you get off my back if I say yes?"

A wide grin formed on Josh's face. "Now there's the Maya I know," he teased. "Well, I guess you'll have to find out, won't you?"

Without another word, he resumed walking down the pavement, seemingly certain that Maya would follow him. She had half the mind to turn around and bolt, but it would just elicit more unwanted questions, so she trailed along behind him, picking up the pace till they fell into step.

They remained silent the rest of the way to the diner, which was just further down the street from where they had bumped into each other. Lunch hour had since come and gone with the working crowd, and it was now empty apart from a stray individual or two. As they entered, a tiny bell jingled over the sound of sizzling meat and frying pans hitting the stove, while the scent of glorious Mexican food wafted under their noses.

Maya's stomach grumbled. She was _starving_.

"What would you like to get?" Josh turned to ask her.

She glanced at him before smiling at the cashier. "One chimichanga please."

"I'll pay for the lady," Josh raised a finger to add, but Maya swatted his hand away just as he was about to slide cash across the counter.

"No, it's fine."

Josh gave her a strange look, like he was trying to figure her out. But he quickly masked his strained expression with another smile and took his turn to order a quesadilla.

After collecting their food in trays, they sat down at a corner table propped against the glass wall, which gave them a good view of the people passing by. Maya could feel Josh's gaze lingering on her every few seconds between bites of his food, and it couldn't help but spark a hint of irritation in her. She had been getting easier to agitate with each passing week, something which she attributed to the change in her hormone levels.

Ever since she'd gotten together with Lucas, Maya's crush for Josh had slowly dissipated, and he turned from someone who was once a fantasy impossible to get, to someone who was just Riley's cute uncle. It was weird at the start, seeing him walk into the Matthews' apartment and have no urge to flirt with him. Her heart no longer fluttered when he talked to her, and neither did her insides melt when she got shot one of his dazzling smiles.

In fact, he had been surprised to see her calm and disinterested the first time he came to visit after Maya and Lucas became a couple. He'd gotten so used to expecting some sort of huge reaction from her that he braced himself for another hug or giant leap onto his back. But there had been nothing. All he received was a simple 'hey', and that was how her one-sided crush ground to a halt after eight long years.

It was funny, in a way. The relationship Maya had with Josh was one formed on the basis of a crush. All of their interactions since they first met had been of a girl pining over a boy and a boy growing to accept that inevitable. Thus, when those foundations disappeared, neither of them were sure of how to act around each other. It had become…awkward, and awkward it certainly was at the table.

"So what are you doing now that you've graduated?" Maya asked, cutting the curtain of silence with her words. She rather they talked. At least that way, he had a reason to look at her and she could guess what he was thinking.

Josh placed his quesadilla down and licked his lips. She was sure the action had been unintentional, but back then, it would've sent her pulse racing. Now, it was just something which she noted with faint observance.

"I've been travelling quite a fair bit. I just came back from Europe a few days ago, actually. But right now I'm planning on finding a job to rake in some cash before I further my studies. Maybe make a film or two."

The latter wasn't surprising; he was fresh out of college with a bachelor's degree in Cinema Studies. It was the former that caught Maya's interest instead. "What are you going to study?" She asked.

"Graduate film. I'm thinking of applying to the _Kanbar Institute of Film & Television_," Josh said, his voice laced with an unmistakable excitement at the very mention of it.

Maya knew what that was. She had seen its name pop up while she was doing research for her own enrolment into NYU. It was a rigorous three-year postgraduate programme that focused on honing and broadening students' skills in the art of cinematic storytelling. It seemed like an incredible experience, one that only made her feel worse about herself. She didn't know if she would be able to get a degree in this state, let alone a master's.

"Wow, that's…that's impressive," she nodded. "Looks like we're going to have a future Quentin Tarantino in the Matthews' household."

"You hit it right on the nose!" Josh accorded with a grin.

"You mean he's your favourite director?"

"Definitely one that I look up to."

Maya couldn't help but break into a smile. He radiated passion; it was invigorating. It reminded her of own love for painting – a different form of art, sure, but still art nonetheless.

"I love indie films," she said. "And I love indie directors. There's just something about them that manages to capture the essence of youth and life. They don't need a big budget or CGI. Their stories and the way they are told is already so raw and gritty. Each time you watch it, you're able to catch on to a new meaning that's applicable to today's society, to _us_. It's amazing. And don't let me get started on the aesthetics of them."

By this point, Josh had fallen quiet, and when Maya stopped, she could see him studying her carefully. She ran a conscious hand over her hair. "What?" She asked, reverting to her previous stance.

The boy tore his gaze away, hesitant.

" _What_ , Josh?"

"I saw you leaving the abortion clinic," he said, the words tumbling out in a hurry.

Maya's stomach clenched. Why did he have to ruin the moment? All this time she had been afraid that Riley would let slip the secret of her pregnancy, when really, she should've been watching out for herself. This was all her own doing.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she replied softly.

"Don't try to get your way out of this, Maya. I saw you walk out of there from across the street with my own eyes."

She glared at him in response. "And so you decided to trail me?"

"I was _concerned_ ," he retorted. "You disappeared all of a sudden so I just continued walking ahead, and that was when you emerged from the alley."

Maya averted her gaze. He'd looked so worried when she bumped into him. Was that the reason why? She contemplated telling him the truth. If he were to know about her pregnancy, she wanted it to be of her own accord, not because she was left cornered with nowhere to hide. His mouth was slightly open, the unspoken question already forming on his lips.

She sighed, looking back up at him. "Yes, I'm pregnant, if that's what you're meaning to ask. Go ahead, tell Cory and Topanga. Not like I can do anything to stop you, can I?"

Josh was taken aback by her sudden admittance, but because he had already guessed it, he was able to bounce back quicker than she'd expected him to.

"I'm not going to say a word about this to anyone, Maya," he said. "Not unless you want me to. Even then, I believe this is your news to tell."

Maya's shoulders deflated; she was exhausted from the many sleepless nights she had. "Then why are you here, Josh?"

He gave her a pressing look. "I know I'm in no position to say this, and ultimately you have every right to make your own decision since you're eighteen, but, you should think twice before aborting the baby."

He paused, as if waiting for her to speak. But when it became clear that she had nothing to say, he continued. "I just…I don't want you to look back on the choice you've made and regret it. Taking that pill, the outcome's going to be permanent."

"And so is the outcome of not taking that pill," Maya said. "I'll be carrying that baby for nine months, Josh."

"After which you can give him or her up for adoption."

"Do you think I've not thought about that? Of every route I can possibly take in this situation?"

Obviously this was something that she had considered, but the stories scared her. She heard of mothers who had planned on doing exactly that before realising they couldn't bring themselves to part with the baby after giving birth. They described it as a motherly instinct, an unbreakable bond that rendered the thought of being separated from their child unbearable.

Maya didn't dare to say this out loud, but she was afraid of loving her baby.

And what then? She would keep it, raise it, all at the expense of her own aspirations. The baby would become _her_ future. Though if anything could be said of the motivation that had carried her through high school, it was that she wanted to _live –_ untethered; free to pursue her dreams.

She made the appointment at the clinic because it was the simplest way out. But in spite of her determination, something had stopped her. Josh was right; a part of her knew that she would regret it, and that was the reason she didn't take the pill now sitting in the pocket of her jacket.

Josh looked slightly ashamed of himself. "I'm sorry. I've said enough. I shouldn't have pushed it."

"No," Maya shook her head. "I–"

Before she could say anything else, he got up from his seat, the chair grazing the floor with a metallic screech. "Let me take you home," he said.

Maya blinked at him confusedly.

"I'm not just going to leave you in the middle of nowhere. Pregnant or not, I'm driving you back."

"It's not that," she said, biting down on her bottom lip to suppress a smile. "It's just…" she gestured towards their table of half-eaten food, "I'm actually still quite hungry."

"Oh," Josh dropped back down onto his seat. "Right. No rush."

Maya cast him a grateful look as she resumed eating her chimichanga.

"I have one last question, though," he said after a while.

Her eyes flitted up to him. "Shoot."

"Is Lucas the father?"

Maya paused mid-chew. "Of course he is," she replied. "Who do you think I am? A whore?"

And for the first time, Joshua Matthews – intelligent, suave, always ready with a comeback – was entirely at a loss.

* * *

After they were done with their meal, Josh led Maya to his car parked just alongside the road from across the diner. It was an eighth generation Honda Civic, one that Cory had passed on to him after he purchased a new car several years back.

"It's a bit of a squeeze," he told Maya, "but it'll have to do."

"What's your dream car, then?" The girl asked as she swiped her seatbelt on.

It took Josh precisely the time needed to start the engine to give her an answer. "A range rover would be pretty cool," he said, looking her way. "So, home?"

Maya thought of Riley, and how she owed her an apology for keeping her in the dark.

"No," she said. "Let's go to _Topanga's_."

* * *

 _A/N: Hey guys! I hope you enjoyed this update c: Just to give ya'll a heads up, my university is starting soon, and I'll be leaving for a five-day orientation camp tomorrow. That means I won't have any time to write, so the next chapter might come a little later than usual (because after this camp I'll also only be having a four days' break before I have to attend yet another one). So please bear with me, I'm definitely as anxious to get on writing as much as you are to get on reading :( But anyway, I'd just like to express my gratitude for all the support you readers have given thus far - both silent and non-! You really give this writer here massive drive and motivation. But anyway, do feel free to leave a review and let me know you think of this chapter! I'll see you in the next one :)_


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